


Hero Hunt

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-07 06:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 113,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12835521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: Team training exposes strengths, weaknesses, and unknown threats.





	1. Chapter 1

Hero Hunt

Chapter 1

 

"This is going to be awesome!  I can't believe they're letting us do this."

"You got that right, buddy!"

Superboy and Mercury high-fived each other as they stood near the hatch of the Bat plane.  The two pre-teen boys had been buzzing with excitement for days after the Justice League had told the group about the weekend camping trip.  Batman had called it 'wilderness training', but the boys were viewing it as a camping trip.

Superman had an indulgent smile on his face as he tried to temper the mood.  "Now remember, boys.  You are allowed to have fun, but this is training.  Listen to Robin, he can teach you a lot about how to survive and live off the land.  Batman's knowledge in that area is unparalleled, and I've been assured that Robin has received special training just for this weekend."

Superboy and Mercury both shot huge grins at Superman.  Superboy said, "Don't worry, Dad.  We'll learn lots while we're having fun."

Robin was less optimistic about his upcoming mission.  Sitting in the cockpit with Batman, he pled his case.  "They're not ready for this, Father."

Batman didn't glance over from the controls, "It's a little late to be bringing this up; don't you think?"

Robin rolled his eyes under his mask, "It's not the first time I've brought this up, and you know it."

Batman glanced over, "Is this about your ability to handle your team for the weekend, or about something else?"

Robin sighed, "I can handle them once we're on the ground; it's getting to the ground that's going to be the problem.  Why did you ever allow this to happen?  How can you, in good conscience, allow us to parachute out of your plane, with no jump training?"

That caught Batman's attention, "You were supposed to teach them, Robin."

"I taught them theoretical, but there hasn't been time for practical training.  We haven't gone over landings.  We haven't talked about controlling chutes in the air.  Hell, the girls have never even seen a parachute!"

Batman turned in his seat, "Then, why are you up here, talking to me?  It sounds like your group has a lot to go over in the next half hour, before we hit the drop zone."

Robin's eyes widened, "You expect me to go over a week's worth of training material in half an hour?"

"If you want your friends to survive the jump, yes," Batman said.

Turning to leave the cockpit, Robin muttered sharply, "Fuck."

_Smack!_

Robin stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide under his mask at what had just happened.  Turning his head slowly, he met Batman's face as his father said, "Watch your language."

Robin sputtered for a second, "Did you just...spank me?"

Batman's hand had landed sharply over Robin's backside.  It hadn't hurt, but it definitely got his attention.

"Out of all the things the League wants you to teach the kids, that kind of language is not on the list.  Tone it down."

Robin didn't know if he should laugh or cry at the development.  "You've never hit me before," Robin said quietly, "At least, not intentionally."

Robin turned to leave when Batman grabbed a handful of yellow and black cape.  He said softly, "Close the door, Robin."

Robin closed the cockpit door, but couldn't quite meet his father's gaze.  Batman gently grabbed a green-gloved hand and drew the teen closer.  "I don't like the idea of corporal punishment.  No one, especially me, should ever lay a hand on my kids.  I just want to make sure you understand.  That was an inappropriate reaction on my part, and for what it's worth, I'm..."

"Stop," Robin said softly.  "Don't apologize.  I was out of line.  I'm sorry for making you do that."

Batman stared at Robin for half a minute, before lifting Robin's chin with a finger, then Robin's eye lenses, then his own, with a sigh.  "Son, please tell me Talia didn't make you apologize to her when she would hit you."

Robin shrugged, and Batman could see pain in the eyes that matched his own, "She had to find her absolution somewhere."

Batman sighed, then pulled Robin into a tight hug, "We'll talk more about this tomorrow, when you get home.  I'm not mad at you.  I love you, but sometimes we all need a little reminder.  I promise, I won't make a habit of doing that."

Robin gave a contented sigh, "I promise, I'll try to learn and remember your lessons.  I love you, too."

Batman hugged Robin for another minute before letting his son go, "Go on, make me proud, like you always do.  You've got twenty-five minutes to give your team a crash course on parachuting."

Robin winced, "Please don't put it that way, Father."

Batman gave a rare smile, "Sorry.  Go on, pal."

Twenty-eight minutes later, a small shudder felt through the Bat plane was the only indication that the craft had switched from fly to hover.  Batman and Superman performed final checks on the children's parachutes, to make sure they were ready.  They found everything ready to go.

Robin spoke up, "Since it is their first jump, I didn't want to leave anything to chance.  I strapped all of the parachutes on myself."

Superman nodded, "Good.  Everything looks ready to go.  Remember your mission.  This is pure training.  You will be dropping fifteen hundred feet.  You don't have to worry about opening your parachutes; the drag line will open your chute for you."

"Just like in the movies," Mercury said, his excitement only barely covering his nerves.

Superman gave an indulgent smile, "Yes, just like in the movies.  Once on the ground, Robin will lead you from the landing zone to the pick-up zone.  It's a short trek, only five miles, but it is purposely over rugged terrain.  Take it slow.  This is not a race.  The goal is to learn about wilderness survival, not to get to the pick-up zone in record time."

Speedy raised her hand, "If it's only five miles, why are you not picking us up until tomorrow afternoon?"

"Because you need to learn how to handle both day and night on your own," Batman said.  "This is just a short introduction to survival situations.  We'll plan something longer for later in the summer.  Any questions?"

No one spoke up, but Robin said, "Ask anything you need to know now, because we will be out of contact with the League until they pick us up tomorrow.  This isn't school; don't let peer pressure keep you from asking questions just to appease the group.  I'm going to be able to teach you a lot once we're on the ground, but I don't know everything.  If you have questions, ask them now, because it is a good bet that you aren't the only one who wants to know the answer."

Impulse raised a shaky hand, "Is this a bad time to point out that I...I'm afraid of heights?"

Superman smiled, "Yes, it is."

Beast Boy raised a hand with a smirk, "I can transform into any bird in the world.  Do I really need a parachute?"

Robin answered this one, "Yes, you do.  That isn't just a parachute.  All of our bags also have out supplies in them.  Technically, we don't need any of them for this short of a trip, but I, for one, would rather have them than not."

"Any other questions," Batman asked.  When no one spoke up, Batman said, "Okay, who wants to jump first?"

Impulse asked nervously, "Shouldn't Robin go first?  Since he has experience, he can show us how it's done."

"I jump last," Robin said.  "As the one with experience, I need to watch all of you to make sure you aren't going to get hurt."

Superboy's hand shot up.  Superman said, "Yes?"

"I want to jump first."

Superman smiled at his son, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Okay.  Everyone, hook up," Batman said.

Nervously, the team looked to Robin.  Trying to hold in his sigh, Robin held up his drag hook until all of his team had pulled theirs out.  He then hooked it to the drag line, specially hung just for this mission.  As the rest of the team followed suit, Robin said, "Remember what I told you.  If your chute doesn't open, pull your reserve parachute immediately.  That's the one on your stomach.  If that doesn't open, yell.  Superman will be following us down, and will come for you.  We are dropping straight down, so there shouldn't be too much to worry about."

Beast Boy looked confused, "Wait, why is Superman following us down?"

"To make sure we actually make it to the ground without splattering on a rock face, or something."

Batman and Superman winced at Robin's blunt explanation.  Superman said, "I won't be following you down, but I will be listening and watching from here.  Frankly, if I see six chutes and no one is spiraling in, you will be on your own."

Again, Impulse looked nervous.  "What does 'spiraling in' mean?"

Robin winced.  He had purposely left all of the ways their training mission could end in death out of his teaching and explanations.  "You'll know it if you see it.  I'll reserve the right to explain that one once we're safely on the ground."

Batman took another long look at the kids before saying, "Okay, it's time."

He reached for the door button when Robin said, "Wait.  This is just a drop.  Don't jump.  Don't twist, or spin, or flip.  Just step out of the door and let gravity take over."  He nodded at Batman, who opened the door.  "I'll see you on the ground," Robin shouted over the wind.

Five parachutes were deployed and floating serenely to the ground as Batman said, "You know how to contact us.  You know the real mission, and your role in it.  Be careful."

Robin nodded, "Yes, Father.  Superman, I hope we don't need your intervention.  Is Flash already in position?"

Superman nodded, "He reported in an hour ago.  Everything's all set."

Robin nodded again, "Very well.  I'll see you tomorrow."  Robin turned and stepped out of the plane.

The next closest jumper was five hundred feet below Robin by the time his parachute had fully deployed.  He counted five perfect parachutes below him.  After floating for ten seconds, he heard the Bat plane's engines power up again as the craft shot off to the east.  Floating in the perfect silence, with only the wind in his ears, Robin closed his eyes for a few seconds, to enjoy, what he thought, would be the last peaceful moments he would have for the next twenty-four hours.

Opening his eyes again, Robin looked down and saw something potentially alarming.  _The chutes stopped falling.  They're drifting laterally.  They aren't supposed to be doing that.  The kids must be caught in a wind gust.  Oh, no.  They've been blown out of the landing zone._

The gust that was pushing the kids to the south west caught Robin, and he couldn't worry about the kids anymore.  _Damn, this is a stronger wind than I thought it would be.  I can't correct my course, though.  I never taught the kids how to do that.  I have to follow them._

Robin looked at his new landing trajectory, and it wasn't promising.  An old growth forest seemed to be Robin's new landing spot.  _Fir trees.  That's going to hurt._

It did.

_Later..._

"Robin!  Impulse!  Mercury!  Speedy!  Beast Boy!  Where are you?  Can anyone hear me?"

Superboy's shout woke Robin from his trauma-induced slumber.  Looking around, Robin found a less-than-encouraging sight.

"Over here, Superboy, Robin called out.

The red and blue youth trotted into sight, following his ears.  "Robin?  Where are you?"

Robin sighed, "Up here."

"Up where?"

"Look up, Superboy," Robin said, rolling his eyes.

Superboy followed the testy instruction, and his eyes widened as he saw Robin hanging fifteen feet in the air, his parachute tangled in branches.  "How did you get up there?"

Robin shook his head, "Out of all the questions you could ask, you settled on that one?"

Superboy smiled sheepishly, "Well, you _are_ a bird.  You could be building a nest, or something."

Robin sighed, even though the attempt at levity did help to loosen the tension of the situation he found himself in.  "You already saw my nest; a couple times, actually.  I don't need a second one."

"Oh.  Why are you still up there, though?"

Robin grumbled, "Because I was unconscious until you started yelling.  Have you seen anyone else?"

Superboy shook his head, and only then did Robin notice the scratches on Superboy's cheeks, and the torn sleeve on his jacket.  The half-Kryptonian must have made the same fall through the trees that Robin had.  "No, I haven't seen anyone else.  How did we get here?  I thought we were landing in a field?"

"Wind gust blew us off course.  We didn't plan for that," Robin said, trying to reach for the knife in his utility belt, "Once I get down from here, we need to start looking for the rest of the team."

Robin's jostling had the unintended consequence of dislodging his parachute.  The fabric of his canopy ripped and Robin unexpectedly dropped the fifteen feet to the ground.  Superboy reached out to steady Robin after his awkward landing, but was confused by the increasingly angry look on the older boy's face.  Had Robin not been wearing his mask, Superboy would have been concerned at how wide Robin's eyes were.

Finally, Robin reached out, grabbed Superboy's head, with his hands covering the younger boy's ears, and let forth an impressive string of profanity, at the top of his lungs, in four different languages.  Keeping his promise to Batman, he stayed away from English, but sent out a blue streak in German, French, Mandarin, and, embarrassingly enough, a handful of choice profanities in Klingon, which he had learned as a way to bond with Tim.

Once he let go of Superboy's head, the younger boy looked at Robin strangely, "Robin?"

Robin panted as he caught his breath, "I'm sorry about that, but I promised Batman I wouldn't use that kind of language around you."

Superboy cocked his head, "So, you were cussing?"

"Yes."

"That wasn't English."

Robin shook his head, sweat starting to break out on his forehead, "No, that was four different languages."

Superboy looked impressed, "You speak four different languages?"

Robin shook his head, "I speak twelve."

Superboy was still impressed, "Oh.  Well, why were you cussing?"

Robin took a deep breath, "Because, I'm pretty sure, when I fell out of the tree just now, I broke my ankle."

Superboy gasped, "Oh my god.  We need to get you home."

Robin nodded as he leaned back against the tree and lifted his left foot off of the ground, "I'll go home tomorrow, when this is over."

Superboy's eyes widened, "You can't walk around on a broken ankle."

"I can," Robin said stubbornly.

"Won't it hurt?"

"It already hurts.  I'll just have to slow down a bit."

Superboy was at a loss, "How can you do this to yourself?"

Robin sighed, then winced as he put his foot down again, "When I was five, part of my training was to climb a mountain.  I couldn't come home until I made it to the top.  On the way up, one of the handholds crumbled in my hand, and I fell."  Superboy gasped as Robin continued, "I fell about fifty feet, and broke my wrist in the process."

"What happened," Superboy asked.

Robin shrugged, "I completed my mission.  I made it to the top of the mountain, it just took a little longer than I had planned.  This is only an inconvenience, nothing more.  We will make it to the rendezvous, it will just take me a little longer than expected.  Come on, let's go find the others."

Robin took a step and whimpered in pain.  Superboy looked concerned, "I can carry you."

Robin looked over, "I know you can, but you aren't going to."

Robin took another wincing step, then said, "Come here."  Superboy was at his side in an instant.  Robin wrapped his arm around Superboy's shoulders.  "You aren't going to carry me, but you are going to help me."

Superboy looked nervous, "Shouldn't we make, like, a...a splint, or something?"

Robin thought about the trek in front of them, "Beast Boy has a full first aid kit in his pack.  Unfortunately, we don't know where he is.  We're going to make a splint.  Can you jump up there and get my parachute down, without hurting yourself?"

Superboy looked up at the distance between himself and the pack, "Shouldn't be a problem."

Superboy crouched, getting ready to jump, and Robin's eyes widened, "Wait!  Put me down first, _then_ jump up there."

Superboy smiled as he helped lower Robin to the ground.  "Let's do this," he said.

_Meanwhile..._

"Irey, help!  I'm sinking!"

Irey shook her head, "You're not sinking, Lian.  It's just a little wet.  We probably shouldn't be using names out here, either.  You know how Robin gets."

Speedy looked down as her feet started sinking into the grass again, "I am too sinking.  What is wrong with this grass?"

"It's called marshland," a new voice said from behind the girl.

"AAAH!"  Speedy turned and almost fell over as Beast Boy smiled from just behind her.  "Don't do that.  You scared me."

"How," Beast Boy asked.

Speedy blushed a bit as she said, "You blend in with the grass."

Beast Boy's eyes widened, "I'm wearing a purple jumpsuit.  How does that blend in with our surroundings?"

"You _did_ sneak up behind her.  She's trying to save face, Beast Boy.  Just let her."

The three turned at the new voice as Superboy and Robin left the woods for the clearing.

"Are you alright," Robin asked.

The youths looked at each other before Beast Boy said, "Seems like it.  Are you two okay, or is this a new relationship?"

Robin rolled his eyes, but didn't remove his arm from Superboy's shoulders, "I don't normally keep crutches in my utility belt.  This is purely out of necessity."

Impulse's eyes widened, "Crutches?  What happened?"

Robin sighed, looking around from the edge of the marshland, "I broke my ankle.  Where is Mercury?"

Impulse shook her head, "We haven't seen him.  What do you mean, you broke your ankle?"

Robin stared at the girl, "I don't know how I can make that statement any clearer.  I jumped out of the plane with no broken bones, and landed with one.  That's not important right now.  Right now we need to find Mercury and head for the pick-up zone."

Superboy was looking to the south, "I didn't know we were landing so close to a river.  That looks nice."

Impulse's head snapped in Superboy's direction, "River?  My brother doesn't swim too well.  You don't think he landed in the river, do you?"

Robin turned his head to look in the direction Superboy was looking.  "Let's go check.  Beast Boy, help them out of the marsh."

Superboy and Robin staggered over towards the river.  The bank of the river was nestled in a low valley, running past the marshland and wooded area.  This long after the winter snow had melted meant the water level was much lower than it might have been, and was sitting roughly ten feet below the level of the marsh.

Superboy gasped as they looked at the bank of the river.  Robin shook his head, "Damn it.  Superboy, get down there and get him out."

Mercury was lying face down, washed up on the shore.  In an instant, almost before Robin realized that the super youth was no longer supporting his weight, Superboy appeared next to the young speedster.  Superboy stopped, hands rising to grip his hair.

"What is it," Robin called out.

"He's not moving," Super boy called back, "I don't think he's breathing."

"Get him up here, now," Robin answered sharply.

Superboy looked up, "I'm scared.  I don't want to hurt him by moving him."

"Not moving him is going to be worse.  Time is of the essence Superboy."

Superboy still hesitated, and Robin growled, "Damn it, Jon.  If I break my other ankle, I'm going to kick your ass."

Superboy looked up, confused, as Robin took a deep breath and threw himself down the hill, trying his best to keep his broken ankle from hitting anything on the way down.  He didn't succeed, but he still ended up lying next to Mercury, panting heavily and biting his lip in pain.

After a second, Robin sat up and rolled Mercury over.  The soggy pre-teen didn't look good.  "He isn't breathing, but I'm getting a weak pulse."  Robin held Mercury's nose and breathed into his mouth.  "Superboy, start pumping his legs, in and out.  Let's see if we can force some of the water out of his lungs."

Superboy followed instructions this time, while Robin continued forcing air into Mercury's mouth.

Only twenty seconds after the Super Sons started their ministrations, Mercury started coughing and threw up a lungful of river water.  Robin rolled Mercury onto his side, to let him clear his mouth.

"Is he okay," Impulse called from the top of the ridge.

Mercury stopped coughing and turned to look at Robin and Superboy in confusion.  "What's going on," he gasped out before another coughing fit took over the speedster.

Internally sighing in relief, Robin gave a small smile, "Drowning sucks, doesn't it."

Mercury's eyes widened, "Is that what happened?"

"Yep," Robin nodded.

Mercury hissed out, "Did you kiss me?"

Robin rolled his eyes and called out to Impulse, "He's fine."

Mercury looked around, then asked, "Let me guess, this is nothing next to something you did in your mysterious past that you can't or won't tell us about?"

Robin shook his head, "Actually, I've always been a good swimmer, so I've never drowned before.  Congratulations, you beat me to it."

Mercury tried to stand up, but Robin held him down, "Give yourself a couple minutes to recover.  You were close to death there, you can take a rest.  I'm taking a couple minutes; there is no reason to get going yet."

Mercury sat back and said, " _You're_ taking a break?  Why?"

Robin took a deep breath as a twinge shot up his leg, "I don't exactly want to move yet, and you two are going to have to carry me back up the hill."

Mercury looked at Robin strangely, "Carry you up the hill?  Did I miss something?"

Superboy sat down next to Mercury as Robin said, "I broke my ankle."

Superboy hung his head, "Merc, I'm sorry."

Again, Mercury was confused, "What?  Why?"

"I didn't react fast enough," Superboy confessed, "You could have died."

"He didn't," Robin said firmly, before softening his tone.  "You got scared.  It happens.  You were worried about your friend, and you didn't know what to do.  I should have pushed for this before, but we will have to do some first aid training in meetings."

Superboy glanced guiltily at Robin, "You knew what to do."

Robin nodded, "Yes, I did, because I've been trained.  You haven't been trained yet.  We'll get there.  You all will be trained, and the next time this happens, you'll know what to do."

"He still could have died," Superboy said sadly.

Robin sighed, "He could have never washed up on shore.  Impulse and Speedy could have gotten stuck and drowned in the marsh.  That tree could have broken my neck, instead of my ankle.  A million other things _could_ have happened, but none of them _did_.  This is training.  This is how we learn.  We don't know what we don't know until we are faced with it.  I'll push the league to have first aid and disaster response as our next course of study.  If we anticipated any problems with this trip, we would have already gone over this."

Superboy sighed, "Yeah, but..."

"Mercury," Robin interrupted, "Do you blame Superboy for anything that just happened?"

Mercury's eyes widened, "Didn't he just help you save my life?  Why would I be mad about that?"

"But I didn't know what to do.  I froze," Superboy almost sobbed.

"And Superman doesn't freeze in a crisis?"

Robin had hit the nail on the head.  Superboy was desperate to live up to his father.  He just didn't know that it was so obvious.

"Yeah," Superboy said, staring at his lap.

Robin reached over and gripped Superboy's shoulder supportively.  "Do you know why he doesn't freeze?  It's because he has extensive training.  You are eleven years old; no one expects you to know all of this.  You haven't been trained yet, but you are learning, and next time, you'll do better."

The trio was silent for a minute, until Robin asked, "How are you feeling, Mercury?"

Mercury nodded, "Better."

"Ready to get going?"

"I think so."

Robin nodded, "Good.  Why don't you head up the hill?  I take it you lost your pack in the river?"

Mercury looked around, "I must have.  I don't see it around anywhere."

"Alright.  Go on, make sure your sister knows you're still alive."

Mercury was at the top of the hill in a second, but Superboy still looked sad.  Robin said softly, "This is how we learn.  You're not in trouble.  No one is holding anything against you.  I guarantee, with a little training, you will be great at this."

Superboy took a deep breath, "Why are you being so nice to me about this?  I screwed up."

Robin spoke in a kind voice, one he found himself using quite often around the younger boy, "Because everyone deserves chances.  Because you didn't do anything worth the guilt trip you're trying to lay on yourself.  Because I consider you a friend, and I want to see you succeed."  Robin grew a smirk, "And, because I can't get back up this hill without your help."

Superboy finally looked up and cracked a smile.  He stood and pulled Robin to his feet, before helping the teen back up the hill.

At the top, Beast Boy smirked, "Is break time over?"

Robin was sweating with the effort to try not to move his foot, "If we want to make it to the pick-up zone in time, it is.  First thing first, this is not how this trip was supposed to go.  By my estimation, and looking at where we landed, I think we were blown about a mile off course.  Our five mile trek is now a roughly six mile trek, more or less.  From the look of all of you, all of our supplies are gone.  That's okay; we can find food and water out here.  Shelter will be a little tougher, but the whole reason this was scheduled for this weekend is because weather is not supposed to be an issue.  I guess we can start with, which way do we need to go?"

Speedy raised her hand, and Robin sighed.  "Just talk.  You don't have to raise your hand."

Speedy nodded, putting her hand down, "East."

Robin nodded, "Right, and which way is that?"

Mercury looked concerned, "Don't you know?"

"I do," Robin said, "I want to see if you do, and how to tell directions if you don't."

Impulse looked at Robin strangely, "Wait, you're still going to teach us stuff?  You're continuing with the plan?"

Robin nodded, "Yes.  I didn't just jump out of a plane to take a walk through the countryside.  If I wanted to take a hike, I could have just stayed home.  We have a long walk to the extraction area, we might as well make the most of our time.  Lesson number one, don't parachute into trees.  They are harder than they look."

A nervous giggle rose from the kids, then an awkward silence.  Robin waited for a second before saying, "So...east?"

Speedy pointed to her right and slightly behind her, "That way."

Robin smiled.  "Very good.  How did you know that?"

Speedy blushed, "I, uh, have a compass."

Robin met her gaze evenly and addressed her blush.  "Why is that embarrassing?"

She looked up, "Isn't that cheating?"

Robin shrugged, "No.  You used a tool to find information that has the potential to save your life.  There is nothing wrong with that."

Speedy looked surprised at that as Robin continued, "How can you find directions if you don't have a compass?"

"Um, the sun," Mercury asked hesitantly.

Robin nodded, "In general, that's right.  The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.  That can give you a general heading.  There are other environmental factors that can be used, as well.  We'll go over them as we find them.  For now, let's get going.  Beast Boy, we need to use your powers."

Beast Boy smiled as he stepped forward, "What do you need?"

"We need to find a way around this marsh.  Get up high and find us a path."

Beast Boy's smirk shifted to a beak as he transformed into an eagle and soared into the sky.

Mercury looked puzzled, "Why don't we just follow whatever path we were supposed to take?"

Robin pointed roughly northeast, "Our original path is a mile or so in that direction.  I would be fine taking that path, if we can find it."

"Oh," Mercury said, realizing he should have been able to figure that out for himself.

"One more thing about navigation," Robin said, "How do you find your way at night?"

Superboy spoke up, "Can't we use the stars to find our way?"

Robin nodded, glad that Superboy didn't seem to still be moping about earlier.  "Yes, you can, but until you learn the secrets of celestial navigation, which we aren't going to cover this weekend, the best thing for you to do is hunker down, get a good night's sleep, and start fresh in the morning."

A green eagle swooped down over the group, causing Impulse and Speedy to duck out of reflex, before Beast Boy transformed into a robin and perched on Robin's shoulder.  "I've found a way out."

"Good," Robin said, "Lead us out."

The bird turned its head to look at the teen, "Can't I just give directions from here?"

Robin rolled his eyes, "I am many things; a pirate is not one of them.  Lead from the front."

Mercury and Superboy giggled as Beast Boy transformed back into himself and waved everyone forward.

After several hours of walking, Robin signaled for a break.  The team found themselves in a shady glade, with just enough trees around to feel secluded.  Robin had Superboy lower him gently to sit on a fallen log.  He winced as he said, "Good job so far, everyone.  This looks like a good place to stop for the night."

Speedy looked around and asked, "Why are we stopping?  Shouldn't we get to the landing zone?"

Robin looked around as well, "No.  I think this is enough for today.  Remember, we lost our supplies.  We don't have the food and water we were supposed to have.  I know you are all thirsty.  I know for a fact that there are no food or water sources at our pick-up.  It was chosen specifically because it is a large, empty field.  If you don't mind living off the land a bit, this spot should do nicely."

What Robin wasn't telling his team was that this spot was found and marked out by the Justice League as a suitable location for an overnight stay.  Their whole route had been carefully planned out weeks in advance to be challenging for the inexperienced kids, but not especially dangerous.  Robin had been adjusting their course to follow their path based on landmarks without letting on that he knew exactly where they were and where they were going.  The only real hang-up had been their initial landing, but there was no accounting for weather.

Mercury looked around and asked, "What is there around here?"

"Take a look around," Robin said, "It looks like those bushes are fruit-bearing.  There are any number of squirrels, rabbits, birds, and other animals, if you're adventurous enough to want to try hunting.  The fact that those bushes are as lush and green as they are proves that there is a reliable water source nearby.  My guess is that there is a stream to the south of those bushes."  It wasn't a guess.  "It probably feeds into that river you found earlier, Mercury."

When no comments came, Robin continued, "Okay, what I want you to do is fan out and look for food and water.  You can pick some food, but don't eat anything until I inspect it first.  Remember what we talked about in training; segmented berries are okay, smooth berries are poisonous."

"What are you going to do," Mercury asked.

Robin winced again with a gasp as he set his leg on the log, "I'm going to sit here and try to get my leg to stop swelling.  Remember, don't eat or drink anything until you run it past me."

Once the kids were out of sight, and their voices had faded into the distance, Robin sighed and said, "Superman, may I see you for a second?"

Several seconds later, the Man of Steel floated down to land next to the seated youth.  "You guys are later than I thought you'd be.  Any problems?"

Robin cringed as he moved his ankle, "Too many problems."

"Where are the kids," Superman asked.

"I sent them off to look for food and water.  I would have gone with them, but I don't know how much longer this leg will hold me up."

Superman had noticed the splint on Robin's leg and figured it was playing into Robin's special instruction for the training.  Robin had been ordered to fake an injury in order for the kids to step up and do things for themselves, instead of relying on Robin.  The idea was to teach the kids to be a team of equals, not a group consisting of a leader and followers.  The wind gust had made that unnecessary.

Superman's look fell as he took a closer look at the improvised splint, "What are you talking about?"

Robin pointed to his leg, "This splint isn't fake.  I'm pretty sure my ankle is actually broken."

Superman gasped as he examined the leg with his x-ray vision.  He sighed, "You were only supposed to fake an injury.  What happened?"

Robin looked at Superman incredulously, "You think I did this on purpose?  Despite what people might think about me, I don't actually like pain."  Robin took a deep breath to settle himself down, "We got caught in a wind gust coming down.  It scattered us all over.  Superboy and I landed in the woods.  Impulse, Beast Boy, and Speedy landed in a marsh.  Mercury landed in a river.  He wasn't breathing when we found him.  He came around after some CPR.  I've been watching him; he seems okay.  The rest of the kids just have some bumps and scrapes, nothing that even looks like it needs to be examined.  We lost all of our gear on landing."

Superman sighed sadly, "Why didn't you call as soon as you landed?"

"I was unconscious and stuck in a tree.  I needed to find my team first."  Robin shook his head and looked down, "I _told_ Father we weren't ready for this."

Superman looked evenly at Robin, "What is your plan?"

Robin took a deep breath, "Let's see what they find in the way of food and water, then I'll make a decision.  Where is Flash?"

A gust of wind followed the sudden appearance of the speedster, "You called?"

Robin shook his head, "You've obviously been practicing stealth.  I haven't spotted you at all today."

Flash smiled, "I've been waiting for you here, like I'm supposed to.  You're four hours later than expected.  Thanks, this is the first bet I've won with Nightwing in six years."

Robin rolled his eyes, barely containing his growl, "I'd like to see how fast _you'd_ move with a broken leg."

"Is that a threat, or..." Flash trailed off, looking at the teen's wrapped leg, "Oh, right."

Robin and Superman both turned their heads at a sound that Flash didn't hear.  Robin said, "One of the kids is coming.  Disappear, both of you."

The adult Justice Leaguers had disappeared before the words were out of Robin's mouth.  Robin watched as the branches of a shrub shook, before Mercury stumbled into the clearing.  The youth looked disoriented, and he kept shaking his head.

"Mercury?"

The young speedster was slurring his words as he said, "Robin?  I think something's wrong."

Robin shook his head, "Damn your stomach.  I told you not to eat anything until I inspected it."

Mercury staggered forward, "I didn't eat anything.  It felt like...something...bit...me..."

Mercury crashed to the ground face-first, unconscious.  "Mercury," Robin shouted, then whimpered as he tried to move to check on his friend.  He could feel the bones grinding in his leg and had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Robin could hear more movement in the bushes as the rest of the kids came running back to the clearing in response to Robin's shout.  Flash got there first, to check on his son.

Impulse had only a second to gawk at the sudden appearance of her father, before Flash slumped to the ground, just as unconscious as his son.  Impulse screamed as Robin felt something whistle past his ear.

Realization hit Robin, and he called out, "We're under attack!  Everyone, get to cover!"

Panicked, the kids froze for a second at the announcement, and that was enough of a pause for Impulse and Speedy to both be hit and drop.  Robin yelled again, and the remaining conscious boys moved.

Superboy appeared at Robin's side and dragged him behind the log.  Robin saw stars as his leg tried to bend in a place where it was never meant to bend, but the movement saved him from being hit.  He saw a dart impact the log where he had been sitting just a second earlier.

Beast Boy slid to a stop on Robin's other side.  "What do we do, Rob?"

Robin looked over at the green youth, "Beast Boy, get small and find who is attacking us.  Do not engage, just locate and report back.  If you can't find them in three minutes, come back.  Don't get hit."

Beast Boy took the form of a hummingbird before flitting high into the sky.

A scream from Robin's left startled the teen, and he looked over to see Superboy try to reach the dart sticking out of his shoulder blade.  Robin's eyes widened as he saw the projectile was different from the one that was fired at him.  This one was glowing green.

"It hurts, Robin."

Superman landed next to his son, blocking the trajectory from where Robin thought the projectiles were coming.  He pulled the offending projectile from his son with a wince and a hiss.  "It's Kryptonite," he said, throwing the dart as far away as he could.

Robin's eyes widened again as he saw Superman slump a bit, with a pained look on his face.  The loss of posture allowed Robin to see five of the Kryptonite darts sticking out of Superman's back, and two more in Superboy's leg.  "Help...Robin..."

Robin crawled over and began pulling darts from the aliens, until a little birdie landed on his shoulder.  "I can't see them, Robin."

_Enough of this_ , Robin thought as more darts replaced the ones he had been able to remove from the Man and Boy of Steel.  "Due east, two and a half miles, Batman is waiting with the plane.  You have two minutes to get there and get him.  Go!"

Beast Boy left without question as Robin reached for the communicator in his utility belt with one hand, still pulling Kryptonite from Superman and Superboy with the other.  They had stopped moving, and gone too silent for Robin's liking.  "Emergency!  Batman, this is Robin.  Come in."

It took a second for Batman to reply, "Is this a real emergency, Robin?"

"We're under attack, Father," Robin said, ignoring the questioning tone in Batman's voice.

"What do you mean, you're under attack?  Who is attacking you?"

Robin took another quick look around, "Unknown.  I can't see them."

"Superman and Flash are closer," Batman said, already starting pre-flight checks.

"Superman and Flash are down.  Repeat, Superman and Flash are down.  Request immediate evacuation."

"I'm underway.  ETA, ten minutes.  Tell me what's happening."

Robin looked around, and narrowly avoided another projectile.  "I sent Beast Boy to find you.  He should be there in just a minute.  Whoever they are, they're shooting darts at us.  They must be poisoned, for everyone else to be out."

Batman was trying to hurry through the plane's start-up procedure.  "What kind of poison?"

Robin shook his head, "Unknown.  Flash is still breathing; I can see that from here.  I have a bit of cover, but I don't know how much longer I can avoid them."

Batman sounded confused, "How can a poison affect Superman?"

"It doesn't," Robin replied, "Whoever this is came prepared.  Superman and Superboy were hit by Kryptonite."

Batman huffed, "Pre-flight checks are almost done, and Beast Boy just got here."

Robin sighed, "Good.  Hurry, Father.  I'm-AAAH!"

Batman's eyes widened at the shout, "Robin!  What happened?"

There was panic in the boy's voice, "I'm hit.  It's...whoa!"

"Whoa, what?"

Robin's field of vision started shifting as he pulled the dart from his shoulder.  "Whatever this is, it works fast.  My head is spinning."

Batman fired the plane's engines, waiting for the main hatch to close before he could lift off.  "Stay with me, son.  Talk to me."

Robin's words were slurred as he said, "We need this paralytic, Father.  My whole body is going numb."

"On my way, Robin.  Stay with me."

Robin sighed as his vision went blurry, darkening from the edges in.  "I'm sorry, Father.  It's too strong.  At least...it doesn't...hurt..."

Robin's eyes slipped closed to the rising sounds of the Bat Plane's engines.

_Later?_

He woke with a gasp, sitting up suddenly.  The room was dark around him.  If he could just figure out where he was, he could tell what kind of situation he was in.  If he could remember _who_ he was, he would be doing great.

"Relax, Damian.  You're okay now."

It all started to come back to him now.  The fog lifted from his brain as a light was turned on in the room.  Damian looked around to see that the room was his room.  "Father?  What happened?"

Bruce sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand over his son's hair softly, "I got to the clearing a minute or two after you lost consciousness.  Whoever was attacking you must have left when the plane showed up.  I found the darts you stuck in your belt; hopefully we can track them that way.  Garfield and I got everyone in the plane, and we headed back home."

Damian sighed, shaking his head as he leaned closer to his Father.  "How long was I out?"

"Six hours," Bruce said as Dick and Dr. Thompkins walked into Damian's room.  Bruce looked at Dick and asked, "Well?"

Dick smiled, "Glad to see you awake, Little Brother.  Just about everyone got off alright.  Clark and Jon are still resting next door.  Uncle Clark said this is Jon's first exposure to Kryptonite, and he wants to make sure he is really okay before they leave."

Damian looked at Dick, "Was I the last one to wake up?"

"Yes," Bruce said, "Makes sense, though.  You were the last one hit."

"Oh," Damian said, starting to feel a little bit better about the situation.  "How is everyone?"

Bruce couldn't hide his smile at the fact that his son was asking about his team.  "The kids seem about as confused as you do.  No permanent injuries, though.  They'll be fine."

Leslie had been examining Damian while they were talking, "You'll be fine, too.  In a couple weeks, that is.  How exactly would you like your broken ankle listed in your medical chart, young man?"

Damian shrugged as he looked at his casted leg, propped up on a small stack of pillows, "Tell the truth.  I fell out of a tree."

"Just like that," Leslie asked.

Damian looked over at the doctor, "You can always make it more interesting, if you want.  Say that Dick and I were climbing trees in the back yard and I fell when a branch snapped.  You can't list that I was dressed like a superhero and parachuted into a tree from the Bat Plane, so you might as well pick and choose the best of what's left."

Bruce grew a stern look, "You parachuted into a tree, but then you walked on it for five hours before reporting your injury."

Damian gazed at Bruce with wide eyes, "I had to walk on it.  I had to find my team.  Damn wind gust scattered us all over.  If I hadn't walked on it, Jai would be dead now."

Bruce nodded, "Yes, Iris and Lian told us."

"I told Superman as soon as I could, without blowing the original plan.  We just got attacked before he could do anything with that information."

Damian tried rolling towards the edge of the bed.  Bruce and Leslie blocked his path.  "Where do you think you're going, young man," the doctor asked in a stern voice.

"To check on the remainder of my team."

Leslie shook her head, "I don't think so, honey.  You're confined to bed for the next seventy-two hours, doctor's orders."

Damian looked at his casted leg again, "You already casted it.  I'll be fine, walking on it."

Bruce rested a hand on Damian's shoulder, "Not this time, kiddo.  You are one hundred percent non-weight bearing until Leslie comes back to check on you."

Damian sighed, "Fine.  Where are the crutches?"

"Non.  Weight.  Bearing."

Damian seemed to deflate a bit as he said softly, "But, I hate the wheelchair."

Dick gave a smile as he pushed the dreaded contraption next to the bed.  "Come on, it'll be fun.  I'll push you around."

Damian sighed and looked up at his father, "That's the only way I'll be let out of my room over the next three days, isn't it?"

Bruce gave a small smile, "That's right.  I don't want you pushing yourself until Leslie says it's okay."

Dick helped settle Damian into the wheelchair.  They were heading for the door when Bruce called out, "Dick, no stairs.  Take the elevator."

Dick sighed dramatically, "You really know how to ruin a good time, Bruce.  Where to, Little Brother?"

Damian looked slightly nervous at Dick's last statement, but said, "Next door, to check on Jon."

Damian stopped Dick at the open bedroom door next to his own.  Clark sat on the bed with Jon cuddled in his lap.  At Clark's nod, Dick pushed Damian into the room and next to the bed.  Jon started to uncurl himself from his dad's lap, but Damian spoke softly.

"No, don't.  I understand what you're thinking, Jon, and I don't care.  I think I might want the same thing right now, and I'm not going to judge you for wanting a little reassurance right now."

Jon stared at Damian for a second before pressing himself back into Clark.  "Thanks," Jon said softly.

"Are you okay," Damian asked.

Jon sighed, "That really hurt.  I've never felt anything like that before."

Damian nodded, "I'm sorry I couldn't pull those darts out fast enough.  I would grab one, and whoever this was would fire two more."

"You did what you could, Damian," Clark said gently.  "Thanks for trying.  Is that wheelchair necessary?"

Damian sighed, "I don't think so, but Dr. Thompkins does.  She and Dad are just mad that I didn't cancel the whole thing immediately after one lousy broken bone.  It was either agree to the wheelchair, or Dad would strap me to my bed and post Alfred on guard duty."

Jon looked up at Clark and asked, "Who did this?  Who attacked us, Dad?  What do they want?"

Bruce spoke up from where he had been leaning against the door, "We don't know yet, Jon, but whoever it is has made a fatal mistake.  You don't attack the Justice League, or our kids, and expect to get away with it."

 

**A/N:  So, what do you think so far?  This story will be a bit of a departure for me, because I'm not writing this one.  You are.  Confused yet?  Well, let me explain.**

**I wrote up a nice outline for this story, with what I thought was a great plot and a twist ending.  However, the more I refined the story, the less I liked it.  The problem for me was the villain.  The one I originally chose is one I am not familiar with at all.  I wrote the outline I wanted, then started researching the bad guy, only to find that the one I chose would be wholly inappropriate for the story.  That is where I am currently stuck, writing a hero story with no villain.  That is where you come in.  I would like to ask my readers to suggest a new villain to mastermind this tale.  Everything I've come up with seems, to me, to be too derivative of stories I've written in the past, and I would like to stay away from doing that if I can.  That is why I am asking for your help.  Please suggest villains in the comments.  Just for reference, I've envisioned this to be more of a Justice League story than a Batman story, so hopefully that will open up the possibilities a little more.**

**As of right now, this first chapter is the only one written, and will be the only one for a while.  I have a couple other stories that come before this in the timeline that I want to get out first, before I work on more than this first chapter.  That will give everyone time to get their suggestions in.  I will consider anyone and everyone for this story, so please let me know what you would like to see.**

**Thanks for sticking around, and your continued interest in my works.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	2. 2

Hero Hunt

Chapter 2

 

A soft ding sounded in the cave, a sound that Bruce hadn’t heard for a long time.  He turned his computer chair to see the door to the elevator opening, and had to stop himself from laughing as the casted foot of his youngest son preceded the teen out of the elevator.

Damian was struggling to push the wheelchair evenly over to the computer.  More often than not, Damian would push with only one arm, turning the chair sharply.  That was followed invariably by some sort of grumbled curse before Damian righted his course and continued on.

Damian rolled up to Bruce’s side, and the man said, “You should talk to Barbara about giving you some lessons on how to use that chair.”

Damian sighed heavily, “She did, the last time I was stuck in this thing.  I’m not going to be in it long enough to need a refresher course.”

“I hope someone helped you get into that chair,” Bruce said pointedly.  “Leslie said no activity for at least three days.  I would hate to have to give her a bad report.”

Damian cocked his head, “Blackmail, Father?”

Bruce chuckled, “Believe it or not, she scares me more than you do.”

Bruce sighed and turned to Damian, “You scared me pretty good yesterday, though.  It was terrible, hearing you try to stay with me on the radio, and knowing I might not reach you in time.”

Damian surprised Bruce when he reached for the man with both arms.  Bruce gave a soft smile as he lifted Damian out of the wheelchair and settled the teen in his lap.  He wrapped his arms comfortingly around his son as Damian rested his forehead against Bruce’s neck.

They sat in content silence for several minutes before Bruce said softly, “It’s not often that you feel all cuddly on a Sunday morning.  I like this side of you.”

Damian shrugged with a sigh, “Well, your lap is more comfortable than that chair.”

Bruce laughed deeply as he pressed a kiss to Damian’s forehead.  “Yeah, that wheelchair really wasn’t built for comfort.  Call it an incentive to heal faster, and not get injured.”

“It gives me a bit of an appreciation for what Barbara goes through on a daily basis,” Damian said.

Bruce looked down at his son, “Dick said you were talking to Barbara about a sister-in-law a while back.  You aren’t anticipating something, are you?”

Damian thought hard, confused about what his father was talking about, “That was almost a year ago, Father.  While I’m not against their coupling, it has brought up an interesting question in my mind.”

“What’s that,” Bruce asked.

“The in-laws.  Don’t you think Commissioner Gordon is smart enough to figure out this part of our lives?  Won’t it be a huge conflict of interest for him to continue as Gotham’s police commissioner, knowing that his future son-in-law is Nightwing?  It will all come out.”

Bruce sighed, “Yes, one day, it will.  I’ve talked to Dick and Barbara about that very thing, and I think that the response to that conversation might be the only reason Dick hasn’t asked Barbara to marry him yet.  I think, on some level, Jim already knows.  The official reveal will definitely be interesting.”

Damian asked, “If we tell Gordon, and Dick and Barbara end up not working out, what happens then?  Do we trust Gordon to keep this secret, or do we have to facilitate some sort of accident to befall the Commissioner?”

“Damian, that’s not nice,” Bruce growled softly.

“But is has crossed your mind,” Damian persisted.

“Yes, it has,” Bruce admitted reluctantly.

Damian turned his head to look at the main screen, “What were you doing before I came in, Father?”

Bruce scooted his chair a little closer to the computer console and pointed at the screen, “I was following your mission from the satellite the Justice League had overhead.  I was just about to review the thermal imaging of your trek.”

Damian nodded slowly, “Did you already watch the visual record?”

Bruce nodded, “Couldn’t see much from orbit.  You guys missed the drop zone by quite a bit.”

Damian snorted, “Tell me about it.  That must have been a forty or fifty mile per hour gust that caught us.”

“Weather satellites report it at forty-four miles per hour.  That still shouldn’t have blown you off-course by eight-tenths of a mile.”

Damian blushed a bit in embarrassment, “I only had a limited time to teach the essentials of parachuting to my team.  I had to choose what they really needed to know.  Adjusting for gusting wind didn’t make that list.”

Bruce nodded, “Okay.  That’s okay, son.”

“It almost wasn’t,” Damian said softly.”

Bruce looked at Damian again, “Hey, I didn’t ask last night, but would you like me to call Dinah and have her come over?”

Damian looked conflicted, and thought hard for a minute before saying, “No.  I’ll hold that in reserve until I really need it.  I think what will help me most right now is finding out who did this to us, and why.”

Bruce nodded, “Then let me help you by helping me with the video analysis.”

Bruce brought up the visual record again.  Damian asked, “Didn’t you already watch this?”

“Yes, I did,” Bruce replied, “but now you can give me a bit more insight about what I saw.  Walk me through what happened.”

It was strange for Damian to watch his own actions from an orbital distance, but it helped to have the visuals to explain everything.  “There’s the plane.  There’s the team, jumping.  Then me, the last one out.  The plane leaves.  Right about here I notice that the kids are drifting.”

The parachutes had started moving southwest, instead of just getting smaller.  “I had to follow them in, to keep track of them.  I guess I could have done more to stay out of the trees, but I didn’t feel like I had enough time.”

Damian cringed as he saw Mercury land in the middle of the river and splash uselessly before going still.  The teen spoke softly, “We are so lucky that Jai washed up on shore here, instead of anywhere else.”

“Where are you,” Bruce asked.

“Jon and I are still in the forest.  I’m probably still unconscious at this time.”

They could see three figures standing in a marsh before two more walked haltingly out of the woods.  “There we are.”

“At least you had Jon help you walk,” Bruce pointed out.

“I tried walking on it first,” Damian grumbled, “I couldn’t.”

Bruce’s eyes widened a bit at the action onscreen, “Jon just left you standing there?”

“To get Jai,” Damian nodded.

“Then why did you go crawling after him?”

Damian sighed, “I didn’t.  It’s hard to tell from a geosynchronous orbit, but the river is in a low valley, about ten or twelve feet below the marsh.  I dove down the hill.”

Bruce winced, “That can’t have helped your ankle.”

“It didn’t.”

“Then…why?”

Damian looked up, “Jon froze.  Jai wasn’t breathing, and Jon froze when I gave him instructions on what to do.”

Bruce pointed to the other kids on the screen, “Why couldn’t they do anything?”

Damian drew a circle in the air over the screen, “This area is mostly a marsh.  They were stuck for a couple more minutes.”

Bruce and Damian watched as Jai started moving again.  Even knowing what he was watching, Damian still held his breath nervously until the youth started moving again.  Bruce took notice, but didn’t say anything.  He just rested his chin on his son’s head and asked softly, “Break time?”

Damian sighed, wondering if his father was asking about the relative inaction on the screen, or now.  “We rested for a bit.  Jai had been close to death, and my ankle was throbbing.”

The small figures onscreen started moving again, and Bruce said, “It was nice of Jon to help you walk.”

Damian nodded absently, “I would probably still be crawling through the woods, if he hadn’t helped me.  He’s a good kid.”

Bruce squeezed his son a bit tighter for a few seconds.  Damian said, “You can fast-forward.  Nothing of interest happens for the next few hours.”

Bruce set the replay for double speed and sat back.  Bruce knew there was hours of footage to comb through, and it could be done a little faster, but he had his son in his lap, and the teen was content to be held.  Bruce wasn’t going to pass on this chance.

Two hours later, Damian leaned forward a bit.  Bruce had assumed the boy had fallen asleep.  “Here.  Play it at normal speed.  This is the rest stop.”

Bruce hit play and watched as the kids emerged into a small clearing.  “What’s happening,” Bruce asked, as the figures on screen dispersed.

“I sent the kids to look for food and water.”  Two figures appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, “There’s Kent and West.  I’m reporting my injury, and our shitty landing.”

The figures disappeared, startling Bruce, “Where did they go?”

“I sent them away.  One of the kids was coming back, and I still didn’t know we were in danger at this point.”

“Which one is that,” Bruce asked.

“Jai.”  Damian had a thought, “Can you back it up a bit, and move the focus south, to see where Jai was?”

“Sure,” Bruce said.  The replay backed up and moved to follow the young speedster as he left the clearing.

Damian leaned a bit closer as the speedster tramped through the bushes.  Suddenly, Jai grabbed his arm and looked around.  “Pause that,” Damian said.

The image froze, and Damian started pushing buttons.  The screen scanned the immediate vicinity of the now-wounded speedster, revealing nothing.

“Where are they?  Why can’t we see them?”

Bruce sighed, “They must have some good cover.  Let’s continue.”

Damian nodded, and the camera followed Jai back to the clearing.  Damian continued narrating.

“Jai’s back.  He passed out there”

Bruce paused the playback and pointed at the edges of the clearing, “Who are these people?”

Damian took a look, “The kids.  Play it in slow motion.”

Bruce complied, and Damian started again, “Jai fell, I yelled.  West showed up…and gets hit.  The rest of the kids made it back to the clearing.  One of those darts just barely missed me, and I yelled for the kids to get to cover.”  Damian sighed, “I tell them to move, so, of course, they freeze.”

Damian winced at the screen, “There’s Irey and Lian getting hit.  Jon pulled me out of the way.  Freeze it, and zoom in on me.”

Bruce adjusted the picture where Damian was pointing.  “Jon pulled me that way, and a dart landed where I had been sitting.  It was pointing…that way.  The shooters should be in the trees, over here.”

Damian pointed towards the upper left corner of the picture.  Bruce zoomed in on the tree line, scanning several hundred feet before he sighed, “Sorry, kiddo.  These guys are good.”

Damian growled angrily, “They’re _there_!  They _have_ to be.  We weren’t attacked by air, or angry bees.  We have the darts; it had to be _someone_.  Where are they!?!”

“Damian, relax,” Bruce said firmly.

Damian ignored him, “The tree line is the only place they could be.  Look at where Kent is falling.  He was getting hit in the back.  I couldn’t hear the darts, so they had to be fired through compressed gas.  That means they had to be close.  This doesn’t make sense.  Where _are_ they?”

Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around his son and leaned back in the chair.  He wanted to comfort the frustrated teen, but he also wanted to make sure his injured son didn’t try to get up.  Damian had a habit of pacing when faced with a problem he couldn’t readily see his way through.

Bruce spoke softly, one hand rising to massage the back of Damian’s neck, “Kiddo, we’ll get there.  Looking at the visual record is only step one.  We have so many other things to look into before we call ourselves stumped.  The entire League is looking into this one.”

Damian sighed roughly, hating himself for how much he loved the soothing massage on his neck.  He didn’t want to be soothed, he wanted to be angry.  “Why did this have to happen?  This is my team.  I’m supposed to be better than this.  From the second we left the plane, nothing went right.  My team gets attacked by nothing, and we can’t even figure out if there is something behind that nothing.”

“Damian…”

Damian interrupted, “Why couldn’t I protect my team?  They trusted me.  The _League_ trusted me, and I failed.  Our first team mission, and the only positive we can claim is that no one died.”

“Hey, that’s enough of that talk,” Bruce said softly, “Yes, the training mission didn’t go as we hoped, but that doesn’t mean you failed.  You can’t be expected to defend against an obviously invisible threat.  You brought your team through this the best you could, and if even Flash and Superman couldn’t detect this threat, then some serious planning must have gone into this.”

Damian thought for a second, then looked up, “Father, this attack wasn’t some secret plan to test my team’s readiness, was it?  Or, a way to show that we shouldn’t be in the field unsupervised?”

Bruce was surprised at the question, “No, of course not.  Why would you think that?”

Damian turned back to the screen, “This is a recorded feed from a Justice League satellite.  We aren’t watching an edited version of events, are we?  There are attackers there, we have proof with the darts.  Were they erased from this recording?”

Bruce shook his head firmly, “No, absolutely not.  Wonder Woman was on duty during your mission.  You know she would never condone something like that.  Do you honestly think Clark would purposely expose Jon, and himself, to Kryptonite?  High enough concentrations of that are lethal to both of them.  Clark wouldn’t risk that.”

Damian sighed deeply, “Okay.  So, where does this leave us?”

Bruce matched the sigh, “This leaves us to continue the search.  We had a multi-spectral satellite watching you.  If we can’t see anything on visual, lets’ take a look at something else.  I was going to look at thermal imaging before you came in.”

Damian shrugged while rolling his eyes, “What do we have to lose, except more time?”

Ignoring the borderline defeated tone in his son’s voice, Bruce switched the feed over to the thermal image.  The verdant green landscape was replaced by a mostly black and white image.  The topography was delineated in shades of grey, while heat sources, like people, glowed white.

Starting at the beginning of the feed led to their first discovery.  Damian sat up and leaned forward, “Wait a minute.  Did you rewind all the way to the beginning of the recording?”

“I thought I did,” Bruce said, checking the screen, “I did.  This is the beginning of the recording.”

“Then, what the hell is that,” Damian asked pointing to the top of the screen.

Bruce shook his head, “I don’t know.  Campers, maybe?”

“Can you switch back and forth between the visual recording and the thermal image easily,” Damian asked.

Bruce hit a button, and the screen changed back to the color image.  Damian tried to stand, to get a closer look at the screen.  Bruce wrapped an arm around Damian’s stomach, holding him in place.

Damian started to object, then sighed and said, “Right.  Sorry.”

They couldn’t see anything on the visual record, so Bruce switched back to the thermal image and hit play.  The plane came in and dropped the team.  After several minutes, the northern group of markers started moving towards the impromptu landing zone.

Damian paused the playback, a horrified look on his face.  He spoke softly, “Who are they, Father?”

“I don’t know, son.”

“They were waiting for us.  They were at our landing zone, and when they saw us get blown off course to the south, they moved south.”

They restarted the playback with the kids moving northeast.  Damian waited until the group started moving due east, then paused the playback again.  He had the computer calculate a distance between the two groups, then sighed.  “One hundred thirty yards.  How could we not see them?”

Bruce switched back to the visual record, and only saw the kids.  Dick spoke up from behind the father/son pair, surprising them with his presence, “Invisibility cloak, maybe?”

“This isn’t one of your fantasy novels, Dick,” Damian growled.

“Maybe not,” Bruce said, “but that doesn’t mean it is a completely stupid idea.”

Damian looked up at Bruce, “Photo-reflective suits?”

Bruce sighed, “If they are, they are the best ones I’ve ever seen.  There’s no distortion.  There’s no artifacting.  If they are suits, they are higher than high tech.”

Dick took a seat in Damian’s abandoned wheelchair and posited, “Alien tech?”

“Why would aliens be interested in my training group,” Damian asked, scared of the answer.

Bruce thought for a long minute before saying, “I don’t think we can rule out anything at this point in the investigation.  Let’s see what happened, now that we know you weren’t attacked by killer bees.”

They started the playback again, and Bruce jumped the video ahead by an hour, at Damian’s request.  Damian took another distance measurement, and his mood did not improve with the news.

“Eighty-three yards.  They’re getting closer.”

Another hour forward, and the measurement came in at one hundred five yards.

“They’re keeping a rough distance, to try to remain undetected,” Dick observed, stroking his chin.

“They were undetected,” Damian grumbled.

A two-hour jump found the invisible trackers getting closer again.

“Fifty yards,” Damian asked incredulously, his voice rising slightly, “What are they trying to do?”

Bruce and Dick met gazes at the panic in Damian’s voice.  “We already know what they’re trying to do, Damian,” Bruce said gently.

Damian huffed out a breath, “Yeah, you’re right.  Sorry.”

A last time jump found the kids entering the clearing.

“Look at that,” Dick said.

Damian grumbled, “Yeah, they’re fifteen yards away, and we didn’t see a thing.  What’s wrong with me?”

Bruce paused the playback, “Explain that, son.”

Damian looked down, “I’m always harping on my team about situational awareness.  Whoever they are, they’re close enough to smell, and I didn’t see it.  I didn’t notice anything.”  Damian sighed, “Maybe I’m not the right choice to lead this training group.”

“Why would you say that,” Dick asked, shocked at the sentiment from the teen.

Damian still didn’t look up from his lap, “Because I can’t keep them safe.  Look at this; they’re practically on top of us.”

Bruce sighed, “They tracked you for five hours.”

“I know,” Damian said sadly.

Bruce asked, “In all that time, did you ever look behind you?”

“Of course.”

“Did you see anything,” Dick asked.

“No,” Damian snapped.

“Which way was the wind blowing,” Bruce asked.

Damian remembered back, “There was hardly any wind when we were walking.  The only significant wind was when we were landing.”

“Which way was the wind blowing when there was wind,” Bruce pressed.

“North to south,” Damian admitted.

Bruce nodded, “You were walking west to east, so the wind was blowing in a way that would have kept sound and odors away from you.  Were you walking in silence the whole time?”

Damian finally looked up, “What are you getting at, Father?”

“Did the six of you march in silence from the landing zone to the rest stop?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  You wanted me to teach them about wilderness survival.  I was telling them how to read the environment.”

Bruce nodded, “Were you teaching, or were the six of you talking?”

Damian sighed, “We were talking.”

Bruce gave a small smile, “So, your focus was on the mission you had been assigned.  Remember, you were there to train the kids.”

“I still don’t get where you’re going with this, Father.”

Bruce’s hand returned to the back of Damian’s neck, “Let’s review.  You couldn’t see them, due to whatever invisibility field they used.  The wind was blowing the wrong way for you to be able to hear or smell them.  They never got close enough for you to touch or taste them.  That covers all five of your senses.  How else did you expect to detect them?”

Damian thought for a second before saying hesitantly, “I could feel them.”

Dick shook his head, “They never got close enough to touch.”

“Not touch.  Feel.  We all do it.  That…sixth sense.  Intuition.  Whatever you want to call it.  I should have known that something was going to happen.”

“Don’t you think that I, or Clark, or Wally, should have been able to _know_ something was going to happen, as well?”

“You weren’t there, Father.  Kent wasn’t there.  West wasn’t there.  I was.”  Damian sighed, inadvertently quoting a lesson his mother had taught him long ago, “Losing focus gets you killed.”

“Where did you lose focus,” Dick asked.  “You followed the mission as it was laid out for you.  You are the only one who thinks it was a failure.  I talked to your team while you were unconscious.  Every single one of them said that the only reason they were able to get through the mission is because you remained calm and focused.  You stayed calm, and it showed them that they didn’t need to panic.  They were scared, sure, but they drew from your mood to realize they could make it out.  The fact that you were injured, yet didn’t let that stop you from leading, taught them an important lesson.”

Bruce shook his head while wrapping his arms around his son securely, “No, we aren’t rethinking your group leadership anytime soon.”

Damian shook his head, “I guess we can discuss that after solving this.  Play the attack.”

Dick and Bruce both sighed at the lack of resolution to Damian’s issues of self-confidence, but started the playback again.

Trying to focus again, Damian pointed at the screen, “They’re fanning out.  Surrounding us.”

Dick cocked his head, “Look at that.  They all stopped when Superman showed up.”

Bruce nodded, pointing to the top right of the screen, “The two heading for the girls split up.  That one must be going back to reinforce the others.”

“Look,” Damian said, “They just attacked Jai.”  Damian shot the screen a confused look, “They have us surrounded at this point.  Why not launch a simultaneous attack?”

Bruce speculated, “They must have been coordinating their attack to a certain time.  The arrival of Superman and Flash must have thrown off the northern group’s timing.” 

Bruce stopped the playback a minute later and said, “You were right.  They were in the tree line, exactly where you said they had to be.”

“A whole lot of good that did us,” Damian grumbled.  “I never considered we were being attacked from different sides.”

The playback continued, and Damian’s eyes widened, “Oh, shit.”

“What,” Dick asked.

Damian sighed, “I assumed it was the ones in the trees who got me.  Look at that.  That’s the one who got Jai.  He’s standing five feet from me.  _Five fucking feet!_ ”

“You had other things on your mind, son.”

“That’s no excuse,” Damian snapped harshly.

Bruce ignored the outburst and said, “They must have some sort of dampening field with their suits to absorb noise.”

“I wonder if they can see each other when they’re cloaked,” Dick thought out loud.

“I don’t get it,” Damian grumbled, staring at this lap again.

“What don’t you get,” Bruce asked.

Damian pointed at the screen, “Here you come in the plane.  Why did they stop their attack?  Why didn’t you become their next target?  Why are they withdrawing, instead of pressing their advantage?  Where is the other guy?”

“What other guy,” Dick asked, confused.

“The sixth man.  My team spent hours being tracked by six men.  Why were we only attacked by five?”

“That’s a good question,” Bruce said as he paused the recording and zoomed out.  “There,” Bruce said, pointing to the west of the clearing.  “He stopped just to the west of the clearing.  It doesn’t look like he took part in the attack.”

“Do you think he’s just a tracker,” Damian asked.

“Maybe he had a problem with whatever they’re using to stay invisible, and couldn’t go in undetected,” Dick proposed.

“They’re regrouping on him,” Bruce pointed out, “Maybe that’s their leader, and he was just coordinating the attack.”

“Why leave us alive,” Damian asked.

“To send a message,” Bruce said, hating that realization.

“What message,” Dick asked.

Bruce turned to look at Dick, “That someone out there is targeting us, and they can strike anytime, anywhere, at anyone.”

Damian smirked, “I thought I was the paranoid one in the family.”

“It’s an inherited trait,” Bruce said dismissively.

“Where do they go after the attack,” Damian asked after a minute of silent thought.

Bruce turned back to the computer and started tracking the group’s movements after the Batplane left the area.  “Looks like they head out on foot to the west, and…damn.  I was afraid of that.”

The screen went black, and Damian started in Bruce’s lap, “What happened?  Where are they?”

Bruce patted Damian’s shoulder, “The satellite moved out of range.  This is all we have.”

Damian sat up straight in Bruce’s lap, “That’s not all we have.  We have a serious problem.”

“I’m aware of that, Damian,” Bruce said.

Damian shook his head insistently, “I don’t think you are, Father.  They were waiting for us at the landing zone for who knows how long.  They had technology to mask their presence, and weapons capable of taking down my entire team, including the super-powered members.  Father, either we have a leak…or a mole.”

“Impossible,” Bruce said immediately.

“We’ve spent the last six hours proving that, not only is it possible, but it already happened.”

“My systems don’t leak,” Bruce said confidently.  “Besides, there was no mention of your training mission anywhere in the Batcomputer.  I didn’t enter anything until this became a case.”

Damian sighed, “You filed a flight plan.”

“What?”

Damian looked up at his father, “You do it every time you take the Batplane out.  Time and date of trip, destination, passengers, cargo, duration.  It’s there, in the computer.  I watched you enter it Thursday night.”

Bruce stared seriously at Dick.  Dick rose and said heavily, “I’ll go get Tim.”

Dick walked out of the cave as the computer announced the arrival of Superman through the Zeta Tube.

“How did I know you two would be down here, investigating,” the Man of Steel said.

Bruce settled Damian in his wheelchair and stood up, “What’s going on, Clark?”

“I just wanted to check on you guys.  How are you, Damian?”

Damian couldn’t meet Clark’s eyes, concerning the larger man, “I’ll be fine, eventually.  Um, how’s Jon?”

“Better,” Clark said, nodding, “He wanted to come with, but I wanted to see what was happening first.  So, what do we have?”

Bruce took a step forward and met Clark’s eyes with one of the most serious looks the alien had ever seen.

“We have a problem.  A serious problem.”

 

**A/N:  See, I told you I would eventually get back to this one.  I have a workable outline now.  I’m sure it will change as I write the story, but at least I know where it’s going now.**

**The next chapter might be a while, but for a good reason.  Like I said, I have an outline now.  I just don’t know which order I want things to happen yet.  The next few chapters will all be set close together, but I’m still working on the exact order.  My plan is to write at least the next two or three chapters, then see which order works best for the story.  Once I figure that out and get past the next few chapters, the rest should lay out pretty well.**

**I’m also writing Sour Sweet, which will be a mostly filler story, but something that caught my attention when I was brainstorming story prompts a couple months ago.  That one will probably be out before the next chapter of Hero Hunt.  Who knows?**

**Let me know what you think so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	3. 3

Hero Hunt

Chapter 3

 

“Would you care to explain to me how you are planning on making it through your work day today, Master Timothy?”

Tim looked up blearily at Alfred from the floor of the hallway, outside of the grandfather clock entrance to the Batcave.  He sighed as he asked, “It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

“It is very much Monday, Master Timothy,” the butler replied, “More specifically, it is four-seventeen in the morning, and you appear to be just getting to bed now.”

“I’m trying, Alfred,” Tim said in a small voice, “But, I’m stuck.”

Alfred didn’t quite know what to make of the young man sitting in the hall, “What are you talking about, young sir?”

Tim gave the saddest laugh Alfred ever heard before saying, “I finished checking the computer, and I was coming up to go to bed.  I’m tired, and I wasn’t paying attention.  I ran into the clock and got knocked over.  Before I could get up, the door closed on the end of my robe.  Now, I can’t reach the clock face to unlock the door again.”

Alfred gave a world-weary sigh, “How long have you been sitting there, Master Timothy?”

Tim looked up sheepishly, “An hour and a half.”

Alfred shook his head, “It just amazes me.”

“What does,” Tim asked curiously.

“That, possibly, the most analytical mind in the house can’t figure out to take off your robe.”

Alfred opened the passage to the cave and helped Tim up.  The young man was unsteady on his tired legs as Alfred helped him to the couch in the den.  “I am too old to be carrying you up the stairs, so this will have to do for a couple hours of sleep.  Rest assured, you will be up in time for your nine o’clock meeting.”

Tim collapsed onto the couch, and was asleep before Alfred returned with a blanket.

_Later…_

“Good morning, Alfred,” Bruce said with a weary sigh as he slumped onto a stool at the kitchen island.

Alfred turned and nearly dropped the cup of coffee he had poured for his employer, “Dear me.  You look nearly as exhausted as Master Timothy did.”

Bruce took a sip of his drink and said, “Don’t tell me he’s still awake.”

“I put him to bed an hour and a half ago.  I’m afraid I was only able to take him as far as the couch in the den.”

“What were you doing up that early, Alfred,” Bruce asked.

Alfred sighed, “You will find out, Master Bruce, the older the prostate, the more frequent the restroom trips.”

“If you ever need time off, or time to yourself, Alfred, you just take it.”

Alfred smirked, “With my replacement currently out of action, that is an offer I just cannot take right now.”

Bruce frowned in confusion, his perplexed expression showing up in his voice, “Your replacement?  Did I hire someone and forget about it?”

The butler shook his head, “Around Christmas, Master Damian informed me that, if I were to ever decide to retire, I must give him ample time to learn my job.  In Master Damian’s estimation, no one will be able to be found who can be trusted to care for the family, so he must do it himself.”

“That kid,” Bruce said, giving a warm smile.

“You must admit,” Alfred said, “He does bring up a valid point.  A trustworthy servant is hard to find.”

Bruce nodded, “We have a few too many secrets to just put an ad in the newspaper.”

“I will inform you of the same thing I informed Master Damian.  The day where you need to find my replacement is far in the future.”

“That’s good to hear,” Bruce said with a yawn.

“Now, sir, what disturbed your sleep last night?”

Bruce took another sip of his coffee, “A combination of things.  Did Tim tell you the results of his scan of the computers?”

Alfred shook his head, “Just that he completed the scan.  I would assume that, if he had found anything, he would have been more awake when I found him.”

“You’re probably right,” Bruce said with a nod, “I’ll have to talk to him about it later.”

“Is there another part to your combination, Master Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, “I found out why Damian was so cuddly yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Nightmares.  Apparently, they were pretty bad on Saturday night, and they were just as bad last night.  He didn’t even try to deny that he was having nightmares.”

Alfred shook his head, “It can’t be easy to find out he was being hunted by an invisible, undetectable enemy.”

“No, it can’t be.  He said he’s staying in bed today.  Or, more specifically, ‘I’ll be waiting right here when you get home, Father.’”

Alfred nodded with a small smile, “I shall endeavor to keep the young master company today.  My task list is light today.”

Bruce matched the small smile, “He’ll appreciate that, Alfred.  Thanks.”

Alfred continued as he took back the empty coffee cup, “This might be a foolish question for a Monday morning, but will you be dining before going to work today?”

Alfred usually insisted on a good breakfast before the family bolted off to work, but Mondays usually found the family too rushed to get more than a cup of coffee.

Bruce shook his head as he got up, “Department head meeting at nine today.  We have catering coming in.  Do me a favor, though.  Get Tim up and dressed.  I’ll drive him to work today.  I think it will be safer that way.”

_Two Hours Later…_

Jean, Bruce’s longtime secretary, gasped as Bruce stepped off of the elevator.

“You’re supposed to rest on the weekends, Mr. Wayne.  You look like you’ve been awake since I last saw you, on Friday afternoon.”

Bruce shrugged, “You’re not far off.  There wasn’t much rest to be had this weekend.  Dick and Damian were playing outside, and Damian broke his ankle.”

Jean gasped again, “Oh, that poor boy.  Wait.  Damian, _your_ Damian, was _playing_?”

Bruce smiled, “Dick has been trying for years to get Damian to act more like a kid.  Dick talked him into climbing trees with him, and a branch broke.”

Jean hissed, “Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Bruce said, “He’s a little shaken up right now, though.”

“How’s Dick taking it,” Jean asked.

Bruce smirked, “I thought you _were_ talking about Dick?”

Jean smiled, “Thirty minutes until your meeting, Mr. Wayne.”

_Meanwhile…_

Alfred walked into Damian’s room with a tray containing the boy’s breakfast.  It was hard to tell in the darkened room, but Damian’s sleep was fitful at best.

“Master Damian?”

The boy moaned in his sleep, head turning back and forth.

Alfred spoke firmly, “Master Damian, you will wake up this instant!”

Damian’s eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp.  Sweat dripped down his temples and stuck his shirt to his back.  Damian looked around frantically until he saw Alfred standing next to the bed.

“Is anyone here,” Damian asked in a small, shaky voice.

“We are the sum lot, young sir,” Alfred said.

Damian reached for the grandfatherly man with both arms.  Alfred sat on the edge of the bed and allowed the teen to hang on to him tightly for a minute.

Alfred started softly, “My boy…”

“I couldn’t save them, Alfred,” Damian interrupted, “I couldn’t protect them.”

_What was he dreaming about?_   “Couldn’t protect whom?”

Damian sighed and closed his eyes as he held tightly to the family confidant, “Anyone.  I just stood there while my team was dismantled.”

“You did what you could, young sir, and you alerted the Justice League to a heretofore unknown threat.  You have done more than your share.”

Damian leaned back and looked up at Alfred’s kind eyes, “You know I’ll never accept that, Alfred.”

Alfred smiled softly, “Yes, I know.  Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do until the good doctor gives you a clean bill of health.  Would you like me to help you in getting dressed, young sir?”

Damian took a deep breath, his fears receding to the dark recesses of his mind, to mount another assault later.  Damian pulled the sticky shirt off as he said, “Yes, please.”

Once he was changed and fed, Alfred asked, “Now, your Father informed me of your plan to remain abed today.  Is that accurate?”

Damian nodded, adjusting the pillow behind his back as he leaned against his headboard, “The better report you and Father give to Dr. Thompkins, the more likely she is to let me off bedrest.  I think I did too much yesterday as it is.  My ankle is throbbing.”

“I shall fetch you some painkillers,” Alfred said.  “Perhaps, to help you in your task, you can help me in one of mine?”

“I don’t know what help I can be to you in my present condition, Alfred.  Dr. Thompkins said no activity.”

Alfred smiled, “This is something you have already helped me with, and will require no physical effort on your part.  Would you be interested in assisting me?”

Damian shrugged, “I had been hoping to talk to Father a little bit later, but he has his big meeting today, so that won’t be possible.  Dick and Tim are going to be in the meeting, as well, so I can’t call them.”

“Have you talked to Miss Robin,” Alfred asked.

Damian shook his head, “Not since before I left for the training.  I’ll call her this afternoon.  That way, it won’t be so early for her.  It seems like, whatever you had in mind, I have plenty of time for it.”

“Excellent, young sir.  I will return shortly.”

Alfred was gone for fifteen minutes before returning.  He specifically left something in the hallway outside of Damian’s door before he came in and gave the teen the painkillers he had promised.

After helping Damian with a quick bathroom trip and settling him back in his bed, Alfred looked at Damian critically and asked, “Now, have you finished reading _Emails With The Devil_ yet?”

Damian’s eyes brightened a bit, “I’m halfway through my second reading.  It’s masterful, Alfred.”

Alfred actually gave a light blush, “Thank you, Master Damian.”

Alfred walked to the hall and returned with a thick stack of papers.  “What’s this,” Damian asked suspiciously.

Alfred winked, “The first twenty chapters of _The Cat Burglar’s Lament_.”

Damian gasped, “Your new book?”

“The first half.  Or, more accurately, almost half.”

Damian took the heavy ream of paper like he had been handed something fragile and precious.  “You’re letting me read it?”

Alfred nodded, “I would appreciate your feedback.”

Damian looked nervous, “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

“Well, looking at your other books, reading only the first half would leave me with a lot of unanswered questions, which I won’t be able to ask you about.”

“That’s true,” Alfred said.  “I’m more looking into your impressions of my new character.  You gave me a lot to work with in our discussions.  I want to know if you think I’m moving in the right direction.”

Damian looked up for a minute, “You’re the award-winning writer.  I can barely write a shopping list.”

“But you can read and interpret analytically.  That’s all I’m looking for.”

Damian met Alfred’s eyes and nodded solemnly, “I’ll do my best, Alfred.”

Alfred grinned, “Then, I shall leave you to it.  Is there anything you need before I go?”

Damian looked around, “Um, my phone is on the nightstand.”

Alfred unplugged the device and placed it on the bed next to the teen.

“And, could you grab the top sketch book and a pencil off my desk, please?”

Alfred brought over the requested items.

“Thank you, Alfred.  For everything.”

Alfred inclined his head before heading for the door.  He stopped before entering the hall, and said, “One last thing, Master Damian.  This must absolutely remain a secret.”

Damian nodded, his eyes wide, “Not a word to anyone.  Not even Robin.”

Alfred left the room, and a text came through on Damian’s phone.  He looked down and read the short message, ‘What are you wearing?’

Damian smirked, “Speaking of Robin…”

Damian thought for a second before taking a picture of his casted foot and sending it to his girlfriend.

Almost instantly, his phone rang.  He was barely able to answer the phone before his girlfriend demanded, “What.  Did.  You.  Do?”

Damian sighed, “It’s not as bad as it looks, but it’s a long story.”

_Meanwhile, at Wayne Tower…_

“Everything looks good so far.  Let’s break for lunch, and meet back here in an hour…an hour and a half.  Um, two o’clock, everyone.”

There was a light chuckling as Bruce kept changing the return time for resuming their quarterly meeting.

Bruce stopped next to Tim as the room emptied out.  Tim was stretching expansively as Bruce said, “You doing okay, pal?”

Tim smiled sheepishly up at his Father, “I might have fallen asleep a couple times.”

Bruce smiled, “Maybe a couple more than a couple times.  At least you sounded coherent when you were giving the Foundation update.  Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Bruce and Tim walked out of the conference room, expectedly being joined by Dick as they waited for an elevator.

“Order in or go out,” Dick asked.

“Let’s order in,” Bruce said as they entered the lift car and pressed the button for the top floor.

The door opened, and Jean handed a stack of take-out menus to the men as they passed by.  Dick smiled and said, “Bruce doesn’t pay you enough, Jean.  You’re a mind-reader.”

After placing their order, and making sure the door was firmly closed, Bruce turned to Tim and asked, “Okay, what did your all-nighter turn up, Tim?”

Tim yawned as he took a seat in front of the desk, “I spent six hours looking over the Batcomputer, and fortunately, I found nothing.”

“How is that fortunate,” Dick asked.

“It means the leak didn’t come from our systems.  The only mention of the training mission from before this weekend is the flight log, like Damian mentioned.  I put that computer through every diagnostic test I could think of.  Our system is secure.  The leak didn’t come from us.”

Bruce thought for a second, “So, there is a leak?”

Dick looked confused, “He just said there wasn’t one.”

Tim shook his head, “No.  I said that _we_ didn’t leak.  He’s right, Dick.  There _is_ a leak.”

“Where is it,” Bruce almost growled.

Tim sighed, “I checked all the other League systems, and found one leak.  It’s not really our leak, but I guess it counts.”

“Where is it,” Bruce said again.

“The Watchtower,” Tim reported.  “The training plans were accessed through The Watchtower.”

Dick looked shocked, “The Watchtower holds all of the League’s main servers; all of our information.  Who is it?  How did they get access to The Watchtower?”

Tim cringed, “Um, we gave it to them.  The information was accessed from the U.N.”

Bruce’s eyes widened as he said incredulously, “The U.N?”

Dick looked confused, “The U.N. hacked the Justice League?”

Tim shook his head, “No, it wasn’t a hack.”

Bruce sighed, “The United Nations Security Council has limited access to the Justice League server.  Mostly, it is just for trying to locate active League members to report issues.  It’s a trade-off for the freedom the League is granted to handle world issues.”

Dick still didn’t look pleased, “What do you mean, locating League members?  Does the U.N. know who we are?”

“No,” Bruce said, “It can only be used to locate people acting on the League’s behalf and for reporting requests for assistance, not for uncovering our secret identities.”

“So, that’s how they found the kids?”

Bruce shook his head, “No, can’t be.  The U.N. has no access to the kids.  Clark and I figured that would be very sensitive information, so all mention of the kids and the training group is kept on the secondary server at Mount Justice.  That is only accessible from Mount Justice, or from a link from the Watchtower, but to activate that link, it has to be physically done from a Watchtower station.  It can’t be accessed remotely.”

Tim looked down, “But, you reported you, Superman, and Flash out on a specialized training mission.”

Bruce cocked his head, “You think we were the targets, not the kids?”

“I sure hope so,” Tim said.

The trio’s lunch was delivered, and they ate in an uncomfortable silence.  When they were finished, Dick said, “This just makes Damian’s questions from yesterday that much more important to answer.”

“Which ones,” Bruce asked.

Tim was paying rapt attention.  He hadn’t been a part of the previous day’s discussion.  Dick said, “Why did they stop the attack?  If the League, and not the kids, was the target, why stop when you showed up?  Why attack the kids at all?”

“Something else we might not have thought of,” Tim said, “If the League, and not the kids, was the target, and assuming they didn’t know about the kids until they saw them out there, did we just give them another target?”

Bruce sighed, “I don’t like where any of this is going.  We have too many questions and not enough answers.  We need to get our minds back on business.  This can wait until we get home.  It’s almost time to get back to the meeting.”

Bruce, Tim, and Dick left Bruce’s office and were flagged down by Jean.  “Mr. Wayne, you have a very insistent caller.  He’s called four times while you’ve been in your meeting.  I told him that you are unavailable today, be he keeps calling.”

Bruce frowned, “Who is it, Jean?”

The woman sighed, “He says his name is Wallace West, and he’s from Starr Labs.”

Dick and Tim snorted a laugh while Bruce shook his head, “Is he on hold now?”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce sighed and reached for the handset.  Jean leaned over to Dick, and asked, “Do you know who this is?”

Dick nodded, “Do you remember my friend Wally?”

Jean shook her head, “No, can’t say that I do.”

“Well, that’s him.  He’s a chemist at Starr Labs now.  He probably got exposed to something at work, forgot how old he is, and is asking if he can come over for the weekend.”

Bruce spoke to his caller, “Hello?”

Wally sounded from the phone, “Mr. Wayne, this is Wally West, from Starr Labs.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Yes, I know, Mr. West.  My secretary informed me of that.”

“I have an update on that thing you wanted me to look into.”

“I’m sorry, Wally.  I’m about to step into a meeting.  Can you call back around five-thirty, six o’clock?”

Wally sighed, “Yeah, Mr. Wayne.  I’ll call back.  You’re not going to like what I found, though.”

Looking at his secretary, Bruce said, “Oh, yeah?  We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

Bruce hung up the phone, and Jean asked, “Do I want to know what’s going on?”

Bruce smiled, “Just a little corporate sabotage, Jean.”

“You’re right,” Jean said, “I don’t want to know.”

Bruce shook his head, “Wally’s kids and Damian are friends.  They were going to come over next weekend, but his broken ankle might change that.  Damian sees the doctor again tomorrow.  We’ll find out then.”

Jean nodded, then threw a glare at Dick, “Did you really think your little brother could keep up with the former acrobat in climbing trees?”

Dick smiled, “He was doing just fine until the branch snapped.  Don’t yell at me; climbing that tree was Damian’s idea.”

“Who is the adult here, Dick?”

Tim laughed, “It’s hard to tell, sometimes.”

The men entered the elevator to return to their meeting.  Dick turned his head to look at Bruce, “That was smooth, Bruce.”

“I’ve been lying to her for almost twenty-five years.  It’s second nature at this point.”

“What did Wally want?”

Bruce spoke softly, “I asked him to look into the paralytic.  He said I wouldn’t like what he found.”

“I don’t really like the sound of that,” Tim said.

“Neither do I,” Bruce said, “Dick, text Wally to come over tonight, instead of calling.  Now, both of you, get your minds back on the company for the next few hours.”

They walked back into the conference room and took their seats.  Bruce looked around the room and asked everyone present, “Okay, where were we?”

_Meanwhile…_

“Master Damian, are you feeling alright?  You haven’t touched your lunch.”

Damian didn’t look up at the butler, who had been standing at the end of his bed for the past five minutes before speaking.  He was transfixed by the pages in his lap.

Speaking distractedly, Damian said, “I’ll eat in a minute.”

Alfred shook his head, “I believe it is a little late for that.”

Damian looked up, confused.  “What do you mean?  You only brought my lunch up a minute ago.”

“I brought your lunch up at twelve-fifteen.”

Still confused, Damian said, “Okay?”

“It is four-thirty, Master Damian.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Oh.  I guess it’s too late for lunch then?”

Alfred smirked, “It is too late for your lunch.  Would you care to take a look at what happened to your lunch?”

Damian looked over to find Titus laying on the bed next to him.  The dog had nosed open the boy’s sandwich, devoured the meat and cheese, and was licking the bread.

Damian frowned at the mustard on the Great Dane’s nose, “Hm.  You win this one, Titus.”

Damian scratched behind the dog’s ears and said, “I guess I’ll wait for dinner.”

Alfred smiled as he took the plate from the bed, “I’ll bring you a snack, young sir.”

Alfred returned several minutes later with a plate of fruit and vegetables, which Damian started working on.  Alfred gave a small smile and said, “If I may ask, what has so captured your attention this afternoon?”

Damian looked up, “Are you kidding?”  He held up the bound stack of pages, “I can’t put this thing down.”

Alfred noticed Damian’s finger marking his place, about halfway through, “You seem to be making good progress.”

“This is my second reading,” Damian said, biting into a carrot.

That surprised Alfred, “You made it through all twenty chapters already?”

Damian smiled, “I told you, I couldn’t put it down.”

“If I may ask your opinion of what has been written so far?”

Damian’s eyes widened, “This may be your best work yet.  I wanted to cry when I got to the end, because there wasn’t more.”

Alfred dragged Damian’s computer chair next to the bed and sat down, “There are five more chapters completed.”

Damian almost begged, “Please, let me read them.”

Alfred smiled, “They won’t help you.  I’ve been writing the chapters out of order.  Those chapters won’t make sense at this point.”

“How can you keep track of the story, when you write it out of order,” Damian asked.

“I have six years’ worth of outlines and notes.  I write the chapters that I think about at the time.”

Damian nodded, “I couldn’t do that.”

Alfred smiled, “Any thoughts on the characters?”

Damian matched the smile, “I know we went back and forth on my character’s name, but I think you nailed it.  Ezra is a perfect name for the character.  I’m confused, though.  When are you going to introduce your classic characters?  I mean, this is twenty chapters, and no mention of Emmanuel, Rod, James, or Matt.  How long are you planning this book to be?”

A small smile crossed Alfred’s face at the description, “I have a plan for fifty chapters.  I am glad you like the name; I thought long and hard about that.”  Alfred’s smile grew, “If you pay close attention, my old characters have already been introduced.”

Damian gasped, “They have?”

“Yes, young sir.”

Damian thought hard over what he had read, trying to put together all the little clues, until his face cleared of confusion, and he asked, “It’s a sting?”

Alfred just winked.

Damian sat back, stunned at the plot twist.  “Okay, let me think.  Matt is obviously the hacker.  Is James the priest in training?”

“So far, so good.”

Damian nodded, “That would make Rod the gardener and Emmanuel the fence?”

Alfred gave a pleased smile, “Very good, Master Damian.”

Damian started looking confused, “But, Emmanuel and Ezra are working so close together.  Wait, is Ezra a _suspect_?”

“For now,” hinted the butler.

Concern entered the teen’s voice, “Ezra will end up being Emmanuel’s son, right?  I mean, his real son?”

“That is the plan at this point.”

Nerves edged out the confusion, “Will Emmanuel…will he want Ezra?  Will he accept him as his own?”

_Master Damian is taking this story very seriously.  Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that I base my characters on the family?_   “Emmanuel has always been a very open and accepting character.  I think there will be plenty of room in the Wyatt house for one more.”

Damian sighed in relief, “That’s good to hear.  I definitely get the Oliver Twist influence, and the Treasure of the Sierra Madre, but there’s something else.  Something I feel like I’m missing.”

“You are missing a great many things,” Alfred began cryptically, before smiling and saying, “What you are mostly missing is the last thirty chapters of the book.”

Damian looked deadly serious when he said, “Tomorrow, Dr. Thompkins is going to give me a clean bill of health, or, at least, enough to walk around the house.  I will do all your work for as long as it takes you to finish this book.  The world _needs_ this book.”

“You’re too kind, young sir,” Alfred said.  “Are there any issues with the book?  Anything I should go back and fix?”

Damian nodded, “Besides it being incomplete, I’ve marked some grammatical errors and awkward phrasings.  Those probably just came from trying to type too fast.  Also, you should really choose to write the whole book in either American English or The Queen’s English.  You shouldn’t switch back and forth between them.”

Alfred sighed, “My publisher usually catches that and corrects it.  Anything else?”

Damian nodded, “Yes.  Ezra is punched in the face at least once per chapter.  Did I upset you?  Did I do something to make you angry with me?”

Alfred gave a small chuckle, “You will be happy to know that Ezra gets plenty of opportunities to return the abuse in later chapters.”

Damian shook his head, “I don’t know how you do it, Alfred.  This is, possibly, the best thing I’ve ever read.  I could never come up with something like this.”

Alfred regarded Damian critically, “It doesn’t bother you that Ezra is a thief?”

Damian shrugged, “There are plenty worse things he could be.  A trained assassin comes to mind.  Ezra doesn’t know any better; it’s how he was raised.  I’m sure he will feel appropriately guilty over his actions before the end of the story.”

Alfred nodded at the stack of sheets, “I’m afraid I will need to take that back, now that you have read it.”

Damian’s eyes widened pathetically, “NO!  No, please don’t take it back.”

Alfred shook his head, “That was our agreement, Master Damian.  No one can find out about this, and I must remind you that you have been sworn to secrecy.  _The Cat Burglar’s Lament_ does not exist until it comes out in print, and cannot be mentioned within these walls.”

Damian sighed and reluctantly handed over the pages.  “Can we talk about it, though?  Just you and I?”

Damian and Alfred both looked to the boy’s door as they heard a noise downstairs.  “We will discuss it later, young sir.  I believe we have a visitor.”

Damian almost snarled, “Visitor, hell.  There’s an intruder downstairs.”

“That is enough of that talk, Master Damian,” Alfred said firmly, “Whoever is here came in through the cave.  I will check it out.”

Damian released a breath, trying to control his reaction.  If Alfred wasn’t worried, he shouldn’t be, either.  There had been no prior notice of visitors, though.  “Be careful, Alfred.  We don’t know what’s going on with this new threat.  If they could track us invisibly, what is to say they can’t find our true identities and hunt us down?”

Alfred hadn’t considered that possibility, but said, “I’m sure it is nothing.  Stay in bed, young sir.”

Alfred rose and headed for the door.  Damian spoke up as Alfred was entering the hall, “If it’s trouble, yell.  This leg is nothing.  I’ll be there if you need me.”

“You will stay in bed, Master Damian.  I am not without my own capabilities.”

_Downstairs…_

Alfred shook his head with a sigh at the sight before him.  Wally stood in the hallway outside of the clock, trying to keep the suit of armor from falling over.

Sighing, Alfred said, “Mister West, the spear goes in the left hand, and the shield rests against the right leg.”

Wally dropped the shield with a resounding crash, causing the butler to wince.

In the distance, Damian could be heard shouting, “Alfred!  I’m coming!  Hang on!”

Alfred shook his head again, “I will handle this.  You need to hurry upstairs and prevent Master Damian from leaving his bed.”

“Got it,” Wally said before disappearing with a gust of wind.

_Upstairs…_

Damian was fighting a small war within his head.  Should he go to Alfred’s assistance, or follow Doctor’s orders?

_If I stay here, who knows what might happen to Alfred.  If I go, Dr. Thompkins is sure to sedate me and put me in traction until the cast is ready to come off.  That crash was huge, though, and I can’t allow anything to happen to Alfred._

His internal struggle eventually kept him from getting in trouble later.  He took just long enough in making up his mind for Wally to reach his room.  Damian was preparing to roll out of his bed when a gust of wind preceded the speedster into the room.

Damian was shoved flat against his mattress, and held in place by Dick’s best friend.

“Get off me,” Damian called out.

Wally shook his head, his hands firmly pressed against Damian’s shoulders, “No dice, kid.  Alfred said to make sure you stay in bed.”

Damian was still trying to fight loose, “Were you the one making noise downstairs?”

Wally blushed a bit, “Yeah.  I was messing with the suit of armor.”

Damian relaxed at the explanation, “Then, you can let me go.”

Wally shook his head, “Nope.  Alfred said to keep you in bed.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “He meant that you should let me know that Alfred isn’t under attack, not to physically hold me down.  The house is not currently in danger.  Therefore, I have no reason to get out of bed, and you have no reason to sit on me.”

Wally finally let go of Damian’s shoulders and stood up, “I never sat on you.”

Damian reached up and rubbed at the back of his head, where it had connected solidly with the headboard.  “Damn, West.  We’re you trying to give me a concussion?”

Wally shrugged, “You were trying to get up.  Alfred said not to that.”

“What are you even doing here?”

Wally pulled up the computer chair and sat down, “Dick said to come over after work.  I have news on our investigation.”

Damian tried to hold his tongue about the sitting speedster, “His work, or your work?”

Damian succeeded in confusing the man, “Huh?”

“It’s only five o’clock.  Dick probably won’t be home for another hour.”

Wally shrugged, “Bruce just said to come over.  I guess you’ll have to entertain me until they get here.”

Damian smirked and said sarcastically, “Yeah, because _I’m_ so entertaining.”

Wally matched the smirk and flicked Damian’s cast, “I guess a tap dancing demonstration is out of the question.”

Damian winced at the flick, and Wally’s eyes widened, “Sorry.  Sorry about that.”

Damian shook his head, “It’s okay.  It sucks, but it’s okay.”

“What sucks,” Wally asked with a smile.

Damian pointed to his casted foot, “This.  You would have healed in an hour.  I was genetically engineered for fast healing, but I’ll still be stuck in this cast for a couple weeks.”

Wally nodded, “Could be worse, Damian.  If you were a normal person, you would probably be laid up for the rest of the summer.”

Damian sighed roughly, “I guess there’s that small consideration.”

They were quiet for a moment before Damian asked, “Um, how are the kids?”

“What?”

Damian looked up, “Jai and Irey.  I didn’t get to see them before you left on Saturday.  I was still unconscious.  How are they?”

“You’re really concerned about them,” Wally asked.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, “I need to know what’s going on with my team, West.” Damian then relaxed a bit, “I don’t want to see anything happen to my friends.”

Wally slowly nodded as he regarded the teen, “They’re pretty shaken up.  Linda took the day off of work today to watch them.  They’re okay physically, but being attacked by air…it got to them.”

Damian looked distinctly unhappy at the news.  “Are they going to continue with the trainings?  Are you going to let them continue?”

Wally looked down, “You know, the first time one of my training missions went sideways, I thought about giving it up.  Dick talked me into trying again, and again after the next one went bad.  I’m glad he did, but at the same time, he left it as my decision.  I think Jai and Irey need a little of that same coaching.  I think you can do a better job of reasoning with them about this than I can.”

Damian looked up strangely, “They’re your kids, West.”

“And you are their team leader.  Hearing it from either of us might sound like they are being told what to do.  I know you aren’t quitting.  Maybe, if they see that, then neither of us needs to seem like we’re forcing them to do something they’re not comfortable with.”

Damian took a breath, “What do you want them to do?”

Wally thought for a second, “As a parent, I never want to see my kids looking as scared as they did on Saturday.  As a member of the hero community, I never want to see my kids unable to defend themselves.  I wish there was a happy medium, but there isn’t.  I want them to continue, because I know, with more training, they won’t be as scared and they will be able to defend themselves.”

Damian cocked his head and looked towards his bedroom door, “They’re home.  Alfred will have told Father that you’re here.  You should go.  You know it is never a good idea to keep Batman waiting.”

Wally stood up, “You’re right about that.”

Wally turned to leave the room, and Damian called out, “West.”

“Yeah?”

“Um, have them call me.  I’m…I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

Wally nodded, “I will, Damian.”

_Downstairs…_

“He’s been here for how long?”

Bruce was shaking his head at his butler as Dick tried not to laugh.

“Almost an hour, Master Bruce.  He has been keeping Master Damian company.

Dick took a deep breath, “I better go check on them, then.”

“No need,” Wally said, walking into the room, “We got along just fine.”

“Good to know,” Bruce said.

“Did he stay in bed,” Alfred asked.

Wally glanced at Bruce before saying, “He was trying to get up, but he didn’t make it.”

Bruce sounded concerned, “What do you mean, he didn’t make it?”

Wally blushed, “I _might_ have had to hold him down for a minute, until I could explain that there was no threat to the house.”

Bruce sighed, “He’s been in bed since yesterday afternoon.  I can understand him being restless.”

“So, do you want to go downstairs for this, or what,” Wally asked.

Bruce shook his head, “We’re going to go upstairs and change, then we’re going to wait for Clark.  We’ve got our own report, and this can’t wait for Saturday’s Justice League meeting.”

Dick smiled, “Take a load off, Wals.  Stay for dinner.”

Wally nodded, remembering Alfred’s wonderful meals from his sleepovers with Dick.  Sometimes, he looked forward to the meals more than the time spent with his best friend.

“I’ll just call Linda and tell her I’m going to be late, then.”

Dick looked over at Alfred and asked, “How much food do we have, Alfred?”

The butler spoke up, “I was already anticipating Mister Kent and young Master Jonathan.  Shall I be adding four more?”

Tim smiled, “If the wife and kids are coming, you should plan for four more chairs, but nine more meals.”

“Jon’s coming too,” Bruce asked.

Alfred smirked, “I might have told Mister Kent to bring him along, to keep Master Damian busy during your meeting.”

“I want him to stay in bed, though,” Bruce said.

Dick smirked, “Then, we should have found a way for Robin to come by.  That’s a surefire way to keep Damian in bed.”

_Half an Hour Later…_

A knock at Damian’s open bedroom door surprised the teen, but not as much as seeing who was doing the knocking.

“Jon,” Damian asked, disbelieving his eyes, “What are you doing here?”

The younger boy still stood in the hallway as he said, “Dad brought me.  He said I can come hang out with you while they have their update meeting.”

Damian scowled, “You mean, they wanted you to distract me from realizing that they are discussing things I should know.”

Jon blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, um…”

“Why are you standing out in the hall,” Damian asked, interrupting his young friend.

“I, um…”

Damian rolled his eyes.  “Come in, Jon,” Damian said, waving the youth into the room.

Jon smiled as he walked in.  He approached the bed and looked over at what Damian had been doing, “What’cha doing?”

“Drawing,” Damian said.

He was about to close the sketchbook, but instead patted the bed next to him and flipped to the front of the book.  “Want to see,” Damian asked.

Jon quickly crawled across the large bed to sit at Damian’s side, “Wow.  You drew that?  That’s amazing.”

Jon was currently gawking at a detailed sketch of the Gotham skyline.  Damian had sat on the roof of Stately Wayne Manor for hours over the course of three nights to capture the image.

Damian liked the smile he was seeing; so much so that he was watching Jon instead of looking at his sketchbook as he flipped to the next page.  The smile disappeared, to be replaced by a shocked gasp.  Damian looked down at his sketchbook with a dawning look of horror, and quickly flipped to the next page.  Damian had forgotten that image was in this book.

“Did you do that one, too,” Jon asked quietly.

Surprisingly, Damian flushed in embarrassment, “Yes, I did all the sketches in this book.”

Jon tore his eyes away from the picture that was no longer visible, except in his mind’s eye.  “Was that from your imagination?”

Damian took a quick peek at the picture again and smiled at the memory.  It had taken Damian six months to figure out what Robin meant when she asked him to ‘draw her like one of his French girls’.  After he had finally figured out what Robin was asking, and found a suitable time and location to reenact the scenario, Robin had been only too happy to pose for Damian.  She had, however, set the ironclad condition that he never show it to anyone but her or him.

Damian looked into Jon’s eyes, “My girlfriend posed for that drawing.  Is, um, is this the first time you’ve seen a naked woman?”

“I didn’t get that good of a look,” Jon said.

Damian didn’t know if Jon was angling for a longer glance or trying to convince Damian that he hadn’t basically seen his girlfriend naked.  Damian said, “And, we’re going to keep it that way.  Robin made me swear to never show that to anyone.  I honestly forgot that was in this book.  You didn’t see that, understand?”

Jon crossed his heart, “I promise.”

Damian nodded and flipped a couple pages in the book, “Here, you can look at this one.  It’s a design for a new Batman suit.”

Jon stared at the drawing, “Is that a trench coat?  I like it.”

Damian shrugged, “I think it’s a little more practical than a cape.  Father won’t go for it, though.”

They flipped through several more pages of Batman and Robin uniform and equipment designs before Jon said, “You’re really good at this.  Do you think you could, um, maybe…”

“Do I think I could what, Jon?”

Jon looked over hopefully, “Do you think you could design a new costume for me?  You could make Superboy look really cool!”

Damian thought about the request for a long second before flipping to a blank page and picking up his pencil, “What did you have in mind?”

_Meanwhile…_

“Damian and Jon are upstairs, down the hall, second door on the left.  It’s the only open door in the hall, you can’t miss it.  Have fun, but make sure Damian stays in bed.”

Jai and Irey headed for the stairs following Dick’s directions.  Once they were out of earshot, Dick leaned over to Wally and said quietly, “They’re going to get lost.”

“Oh, big time,” Wally replied.  “How is it they’ve never been here before?”

“We can discuss that later,” Bruce said.

“Let’s get this over with,” Clark agreed.  He turned to Bruce and asked, “Should we go to the cave for this?”

“Dining room is fine,” Bruce said, “We don’t know enough yet for this to take too long.”

The men walked into the dining room, Linda West trailing behind, not knowing exactly where she should go.

Alfred walked into the dining room and spotted the lost-looking woman.  “Ms. West, might I impose to ask for your assistance in the kitchen?”

“Sure, Alfred,” the woman said, glad to have something to do.

Bruce waited until the kitchen door closed and said, “Okay, Wally.  You’re up.”

Wally’s eyes widened, “Me?  Why do I have to go first?”

“Because you called my secretary, instead of my cell phone.”

Dick spoke, knowing how to get his friend moving, “Wally, let’s get this done, so we can have dinner.”

Wally took a deep breath, “Okay, you gave me the paralytic.  I took a sample to work to break down the chemical structure.  I was able to do that a little too quickly.”

“Why do you say it like that,” Clark asked.

“I was able to break it down quickly because the chemical structure was already in the computer.”

“Meaning,” Bruce asked.

Wally sighed, “Bruce, Starr Labs made this chemical.  _I_ made this chemical.  I worked on this under a military contract as a chemical restraint.  It was supposed to be used by the medical corps as a new surgical anesthetic.  It’s fast, lasts long enough for most surgeries, and leaves no side effects.”

“Which military made the contract,” Clark asked.

“You know I could lose my job for telling you that,” Wally said.

Dick shook his head, “He’s not a reporter, he’s the head of the Justice League.”

Wally rolled his eyes, “It was just a reminder that what I’m telling you is important.  It was ours.  The contract was for the U.S. Army.”

Bruce looked at Dick in confusion, until Wally added, “The United States Army, in conjunction with the United Nations.”

Tim nearly jumped out of his chair, “The United Nations?”

Wally nodded.

Confused, Clark said, “I know, Tim.  It is hard to believe.”

Tim shook his head, “No, it’s not.  It corroborates what we found.”

Clark cocked his head, “What did you find?”

Tim took a second to calm down, “I searched the computers, looking for leaks in our systems where the attackers could have found the Junior League.”

Dick and Wally snorted at the name as Tim continued, “The Bat Computer came up clean, so I expanded to Justice League systems.  Long story short, the U. N. access to the Watchtower server has been used more in the last two months than at any time in the last six years combined.  I haven’t been able to trace who is accessing our information yet, but I’m working on it.”

Clark looked confused, “Is it coming from a U.N. link in a member country?”

Tim shook his head, “No, I checked that.  The access requests have all come from U.N. Headquarters in New York.”

The room was silent for half a minute before Bruce said, “Well, it seems like we know who our enemy is.  The big question is, what did we do to piss of the United Nations?”

 

**A/N: What indeed?  Sorry, Bruce, but you only think you know who your enemy is.  There is plenty more investigation and intrigue to come, so stay tuned.**

**This chapter has several references to past works of mine.  Alfred’s book was the focus of my story Inspiration.  The Titanic reference was from Birds of a Feather.**

**I really didn’t think this chapter was this long when I was writing it out.  This is what happens when my mind starts flowing.**

**Chapter 4 should hopefully be out by the end of the weekend, but don’t hold me to that.  I am also going to post Sour Sweet this weekend, which is in final editing right now.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	4. 4

Hero Hunt

Chapter 4

 

“Master Damian, fidgeting will not make the lights change any faster.”

Damian released a deep sigh as he tried to still his bouncing leg in the back seat of the car.  “Sorry, Alfred.  I just want to get this over with, so I can get back to my life.”

Alfred looked at Damian in the rearview mirror, “We will get there when we get there, and not a second before.”

Damian could tell that Alfred was trying to relax him, and he gave a small smile to the mirror, “I’m just happy to be out of my room.”

“Is there something wrong with your bedroom, young sir,” Alfred asked lightly.

Damian shook his head, “Only when you’re required to spend twenty-four hours a day in there.”

Alfred felt for the normally active teen as he pulled into the parking lot in front of Leslie’s clinic.  “It appears to be rather busy here today.”

The parking lot had only two open spots.  Alfred did the best he could to find an angle to park where Damian could get out of the car without having to stand up.  He couldn’t do it in a spot, so Alfred pulled in front of the door of the clinic and unloaded his charge, before moving the car to a regular spot.

Damian had worked his way inside the crowded waiting room and checked himself in by the time Alfred returned to the clinic.

“I’ve never seen this place this crowded,” Alfred remarked.

Damian remained silent, his eyes constantly scanning the room.

A patient was called, and Damian leaned over to Alfred, “Can we wait outside, Alfred?”

Alfred looked down and saw a bead of sweat drip down Damian’s cheek, “Are you feeling alright, Master Damian?”

Damian whispered, “There are too many people in here.  Too many strangers.  Too many sick people.”

“It should only be a few more minutes, Master Damian,” Alfred said, “Your appointment is soon.”

“Please, Alfred,” Damian said softly.

Alfred glanced at Damian before nodding, “I shall let the receptionist know we will be outside.”

The butler started walking to the front desk when a nurse called Damian back.  They were settled in an exam room and were asked to wait for the doctor.

Alfred moved the wheelchair out of the way after helping Damian up on the exam table.  He turned back to the teen and asked, “Is this better, young sir?”

Damian looked around before releasing a breath and saying, “Yes, this is acceptable.”

Several minutes later, the door opened and a man in a lab coat walked in, reading Damian’s chart.

Concerned, Damian asked, “Who are you?”

The man continued reading the chart as he grabbed Damian’s foot, “I’m Dr. Fong.  Are you…Damian?”

Damian was pulling his foot away from the doctor as he asked, “Where’s Dr. Thompkins?”

Dr. Fong finally looked up as the casted foot was ripped away from him, “It’s a busy day today.  We’ve had a lot of walk-ins.  Dr. Thompkins and I are doing the best we can.  I’m Dr. Thompkins’ partner.  Shall we get started?”

The doctor reached out and grabbed Damian’s leg again.  Damian grabbed the man’s hand and forcibly removed it from his knee.  “Don’t touch me,” Damian growled.

Dr. Fong pulled his wrist out of the tight grasp, “What’s going on?”

“You’re not my doctor,” Damian snarled, “I don’t want you touching me, and I don’t want you reading my chart.”

“We just need to get your x-ray and I can get you out of here,” the doctor said.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, “I’ll wait for Dr. Thompkins.”

“It might be a while,” Dr. Fong said with a smile that Damian assumed was fake.

“I’ll wait,” Damian said coldly, leaning away from the man.

“How about I take you for that x-ray?  It will get you out of here sooner.”

Damian shivered at the prospect, “I’m not going anywhere with you.  Get a nurse to do it.  I know the nurses.  I don’t know you.”

Damian was taken for his x-ray by a nurse he was familiar with, and asked to wait for Dr. Thompkins.

Twenty minutes later, Leslie walked into the room, shaking her head.

“I’m surprised you would allow Damian to be rude to Dr. Fong, Alfred.”

Damian blushed in embarrassment as Alfred said, “He pushed the boundary of appropriate behavior, but in his defense, I too was surprised at the appearance of a strange physician in your clinic.”

Leslie nodded, “Dr. Fong is my new partner.  One day, this clinic will be his.”

That surprised the men.  “Are you retiring,” Damian asked.

Leslie smiled, “Not yet, but I’ve been doing this for forty years.  It’s just about time.”

Damian was trying to hide his shock, “Alfred’s been doing his job for fifty years.  You don’t want him to hold the record, do you?”

Leslie chuckled as she put the x-ray in the light box, “It’s not a competition, Damian.”

“How is Dr. Fong as a doctor,” Alfred asked.

“From what I’ve seen so far, he’s very good.  He’s only been here for three weeks, but I haven’t heard any complaints, until today.”

“You would really retire,” Damian asked softly.

Leslie nodded, “Eventually.”

Damian leaned in and whispered, “What if we need a cave call?”

Leslie leaned in and smiled, “You’ll just have to stop getting hurt.”

“That was a serious question, Doctor,” Damian said.

Leslie tapped her index finger on the end of Damian’s nose, “That was a serious answer, too.  I would much rather see you for regular check-ups than major injuries.  Have you declared a major yet?  Maybe you can go to medical school and follow in your grand…your Father’s Father’s footsteps.”

Damian leaned back, thinking about what Leslie had suggested.

Alfred asked, “How is Master Damian’s ankle, Doctor?”

Leslie turned on the light box and pointed out the break on the film.  “There it is.  Everything looks good, so far.”

Damian gave a relieved breath and smiled, “So, I’m good?  I don’t need the wheelchair anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, honey,” Dr. Thompkins said quickly, “Your bone hasn’t shifted, and I can see some calcifications starting to form, which means that it’s starting to heal.  But, you don’t want to rush anything yet.  I can see by the state of your cast that you’ve been following my orders to not walk on it.  You need to keep that going for a while longer.”

Damian’s shoulders fell in shock, “How much longer?  You said it was healing.”

Leslie nodded.  She had been expecting that this news wouldn’t be taken well.  “It is healing, but Damian, it’s only been three days.  I will admit, the x-ray shows calcifications consistent with about a weeks’ worth of healing time.  However, without your lauded accelerated healing, which you tell me about every time you get hurt, this kind of injury would normally take six to eight weeks to heal.”

Damian thought critically for a second, “So, if I did a week in three days, you’re saying that I can look at eighteen to twenty-four days for total healing?”

Leslie sighed, “That’s probably a conservative guess, if you continue to take it easy and not push your recovery.”

Damian sighed, “I can’t just sit around for three to four weeks, doing nothing.  It’s been three days, and I’m already starting to lose my mind.  I need to be able to move around; it’s how I control myself and my emotions.”

Leslie reached out and laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “No, you need to rest, and let yourself heal.”

“How am I supposed to rest,” Damian asked quietly, “We just started an important case, and now you’re sidelining me from helping with the investigation.”

Leslie nodded, not falling for Damian’s tactics, ones that she recognized all too well from every Wayne male she had ever treated.  “Yes, I am.  I am also going to call Bruce and let him know my diagnosis and recommendations.”

Damian looked up indignantly, catching the subtext of the statement, “I don’t lie, Doctor.”

“He actually doesn’t,” Alfred said.

“Even so, I don’t want you to do too much; not until you give yourself time to heal.”  Leslie started making notes in his chart as she said, “You are still to remain non-weight bearing.  However, you can get around on crutches in your room only.  Back and forth from the bathroom to your bed, and that’s it.  Anytime you leave your room, though, I want you to keep using the wheelchair.”

Damian sighed, looking at his hands, and said quietly, “Yes, Doctor.”

“I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but you’re really doing great.”

“Not great enough, obviously,” Damian grumbled softly.

Leslie turned to Alfred, “Make a follow up appointment for Friday.  We’ll take another x-ray then and see where we are then.”

_Another three days._   “Only if I don’t have to see that new doctor,” Damian said as Alfred helped him into the wheelchair.

Leslie nodded with a small smile, “I can make that happen.  Remember, no walking, only crutches in your room, and take it easy.  I’ll see you Friday.”

Damian sighed, “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Dr. Thompkins,” Alfred said, wheeling Damian out of the exam room.

A follow up appointment was made, and they left for home.

Damian was pondering his situation in the back seat of the car as they drove.  Alfred observed the teen through the rearview mirror.  _Master Damian is finding himself in quite a situation.  He is doing everything he has been ordered to do, and he still sees it as not enough.  Master Bruce will insist the boy stay out of the cave, but that might not be the best course of action right now.  Still, this will be quite a blow to Master Damian, especially when it involves an investigation so closely linked to his injury.  Perhaps I know a way to cheer him up a little before we get home._

Damian looked up as the car changed lanes and exited the highway, “What’s going on, Alfred?”

Alfred glanced at the rearview mirror, “Nothing of importance, Master Damian.”

Damian was still confused, “Is there something wrong with the car?  Why are you pulling over?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Alfred said as he pulled into a parking lot.

“I don’t get it, Alfred.  Are you feeling alright?”

“I am, young sir.”

“But, this is a McDonalds.  I didn’t think you even knew what a McDonalds was.”

“I am full of surprises, Master Damian.”

Damian’s mind was blown as Alfred pulled into the drive-thru lane, “Did I get into the right car outside of the clinic?”

Alfred rolled down the window and ordered two vanilla ice cream cones.  Damian was just shaking his head in shock as Alfred pulled into a parking spot and held one of the cones out to Damian.

“I still don’t get it, Alfred.  When have we ever done this?”

Alfred smiled, “Today seems like a day for something new.  I understand this hasn’t been the easiest morning for you, young sir.  This may not help your ankle heal faster, but it won’t hurt it, either.”

Damian finally grew a small smile and took the cone from the butler, “Thank you, Alfred.”

_Later That Afternoon…_

Bruce walked into the den and smiled as he saw Damian’s head sticking up over the couch.  “You’re out of your room.  Is this good news?”

Damian turned to look at his Father and said flatly, “No.”

Bruce walked around the couch and sat down next to his son.  Bruce draped an arm around Damian and scooted, so that Damian was leaning against his side.  “Alfred said you had a rough morning.  Want to talk about it?”

Damian sighed, “We’ll have to cancel that update meeting you wanted me to hold with the Super Brats tomorrow.  I can’t walk.”

 Bruce squeezed his son and said, “We’ll work something out for that.”

“Dr. Thompkins said I don’t have to stay in bed, but I still have to use the wheelchair.  I can use crutches between my bed and the bathroom, but nothing else.”

Bruce wrapped his other arm around Damian, “I’m sorry, kiddo, but it has only been three days.”

“I know,” Damian said with a sigh.”

“When’s your next check-up?”

Damian looked up, “Dr. Thompkins didn’t call you?”

Bruce shook his head, “Was she supposed to?”

“She said she would.”

Bruce shrugged, “She must be busy.”

Damian sighed, his head falling again, “Well, I get another x-ray on Friday.  Dr. Thompkins is predicting three to four weeks recovery time.  I don’t think I can last that long, just sitting on the couch.”

“Three to four weeks isn’t bad,” Bruce said.

“She said it would normally be six to eight weeks.”

“Don’t you have your summer session starting soon at school,” Bruce asked.

Damian nodded, “Yes, but the school only lets students register for one class for each summer session.  That’s hardly going to keep me busy.”

They fell into a heavy silence for a minute.  Bruce was unconsciously rubbing Damian’s neck.

Damian’s voice was a bit softer as he said, “Dr. Thompkins hired a partner.  She’s looking into selling her practice and retiring.”

Bruce sighed, “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“What are we going to do for medical care, Father?”

Bruce smirked, “Have you considered going into Pre-Med?”

“That’s what Dr. Thompkins said.”

“What did you think of the new doctor?”

Damian grumbled, “I don’t like change.”

“I know, son.”

“I wouldn’t let him examine me,” Damian said, “I won’t let him examine me.  He was touching me, and I didn’t like it.”

“What do you mean, son?”

Damian looked up again, “He walked into the room and started grabbing my leg.  Didn’t say anything, just…did it.  I didn’t like the way he was touching me.”

Bruce sighed, “You might not have a choice, kiddo.  If he’s taking over the clinic, he might be the only option.”

Damian cocked his head, “You would trust this stranger with our real identities?”

Bruce thought for a second, “That will depend on how I feel after meeting him, and after having a talk with Leslie.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest, “I refuse to see him, Father.  There’s something about him I don’t like.”

“What is it,” Bruce asked, concerned.

Damian shook his head and sighed, “I don’t know.  I just get a bad feeling around him.”

“Could it be that he’s just new, and you don’t know him?”

Damian looked confused, “What would that have to do with anything?  Of course, he’s new.  Something just feels off to me.”

Bruce nodded, “Okay.  You said you have a check up on Friday?  How about I go with you and check out this new doctor for myself?”

“What about work,” Damian asked, shocked that Bruce would miss time at the office for one of his doctor’s appointments.

Bruce smiled, “Believe it or not, I like you more than I like the office.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Damian mumbled.

“What,” Bruce asked, not really needing Damian to repeat his comment.

Damian shook his head, “I don’t see how you can check out Dr. Fong, when he won’t be anywhere near me.  I made that perfectly clear to Dr. Thompkins today.  She agreed she would see me on Friday.”

“We’ll figure it out, kiddo.”

Damian pushed himself backwards to sit in Bruce’s lap.  He turned and wrapped his arms around his Father, burying his face against Bruce’s shoulder.  “I really hate this, Father.”

Bruce released a deep breath as he wrapped Damian in his arms, “I know, kiddo.  I know you want to be out there with us, helping to find whoever these people are.”

“I’d settle for being able to go to the bathroom on my own, right now,” Damian said.

Bruce smiled, “We’ll still find ways for you to help us out.  It just won’t be in the butt-kicking realm.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Of course not.  That’s only what I’m best at.”

“I still want you to have the meeting with the kids tomorrow,” Bruce said, “We’ll move it to the cave, instead of Mount Justice.  Does your whole team know each other’s identities?”

Damian lifted his head, “They should, by now.  The only one who didn’t know us was Garfield.  He should have figured it out by now, though.  I gave him more than enough clues.”

Bruce nodded, “Then you can have them here, and you don’t have to worry about getting into your uniform.”

“Okay, Father.”

Bruce continued, “I want you to take a temperature check of your team and see how they’re feeling about everything.  I’m going to have Dinah on stand-by, if you think they need her.  You can tell them what we know so far; that shouldn’t take too long.”

Damian’s phone started ringing in his pocket.  Damian checked the screen and smiled, “He figured it out.”

“Who?”

“Garfield.”  Damian answered his phone, “Hello?”

A clearly nervous voice responded, “H-hello?  Is this, um, Damian?”

Damian gave a soft smile, “Hello, Garfield.  Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“How did you know it was me,” the green youth asked.

Damian rolled his eyes, “You mean, other than recognizing your voice?  I told you I had your cell number.  You are programmed into my phone.”

Garfield gasped, “That’s cool.  Why didn’t you tell me you were a freakin’ millionaire, though?”

“You saw the cave.  Do you think any of that comes cheap?”

Garfield didn’t answer, so Damian continued, “I didn’t tell you anything.  Anyway, I’m not.  Start that with a B and you are a little closer.”

Garfield could feel his mind blowing, “Whoa.”

“Are you just calling to let me know you figured out who I am, or did you have another reason for calling?”

It took Garfield a second to shake himself out of his head and get down to business, “Yeah.  I don’t know if I will be able to make it to that meeting tomorrow.  I don’t think I have a way to get there.”

Damian was confused, “What do you mean?  Just use the same way you use to get to trainings.  We’ll have to give you a new set of directions, though.  We’re moving the meeting to another location.”

Garfield sounded concerned, and a little scared, “Are you sure about that?  Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

Damian picked up on the change of tone from the emerald teen, “Why don’t you tell me what is going on, Garfield?”

“You mean, you don’t know,” Garfield asked.

“Know what?”

“Turn on channel two.”

Damian sighed and rolled his eyes, “You live in San Francisco.”

“Yeah,” Garfield said, confused.

Damian didn’t think he should really have to explain this, “I live in Gotham City, on the other side of the country.  My channel two is different than your channel two.”

“CBS,” Garfield said, a little cowed.

Damian leaned over to his Father, “Do we have a west coast news feed, Father?”

Bruce nodded and turned on the TV.  It took a minute to find the right channel, but when he did, both Bruce and Damian gasped deeply.

“Is that what I think it is,” Damian asked.

Bruce nodded as Garfield said over the phone, “Titans Tower is on fire.”

Damian looked up at Bruce, “Is there any chance that this is just a coincidence, or an accident?”

Bruce couldn’t rip his eyes from the screen, “I hope so, but I doubt it.”

Damian sighed and spoke to Garfield again, “We’ll find a way to get you here, if we end up still holding the meeting, Garfield.  For now, though, it would be best if you kept a low profile.  Don’t go out if you don’t have to.  Limit your social media activities.  Try to keep your head down.  Whoever is actually doing this might actually have more resources than the Justice League.”

Garfield swallowed nervously, “Um, okay.  Um, Damian?  Am I safe out here?”

Damian hesitated before saying, “I don’t think any of us are safe right now.  Just remember what I’ve tried to teach you so far.  Those lessons will help.”

If anything, Garfield sounded even more nervous, “Okay.  Um, can I call you again?”

Damian nodded, “Any time you need me.  I want to stay in touch, to make sure you’re safe.  No one is taking out my team, if there’s anything I can do about it.”

The call ended and Bruce shifted Damian out of his lap.  “That was nice, what you said to your friend.  I need to get Tim working on this.  I’ve got a way for you to help, too, but we need to make sure everyone is still alive first.”

Damian nodded, trying not to feel left out, “Go, Father.  That’s more important right now.”

Bruce handed Damian the remote, “Keep watching.  Make note of any theories or suppositions the reporters might throw out.  We need all the information we can get at this point.”

Bruce and Damian’s eyes met for half a minute, and the gravity of the situation was felt by both father and son.  The both nodded, and Bruce swept from the room.

 

**A/N: I know, it’s only about half the length of the last chapter.  I’m working on chapter five right now, but I have a very busy next couple weeks, with work and family coming in from out of town.**

**We’re looking at several more chapters of investigation and revelation before we get to the actual issue and villain of this story.  My original outline was set for ten chapters, but I’m thinking this will go past that by a fair bit, depending on how in-depth I want to get with the intrigue.  We’ll see.**

**I tried uploading Sour Sweet earlier today, but the site is having problems right now.  Both that and this will be up as soon as AO3 allows uploads again.**

**Even though it might be too late by the time this is actually posted, I just want to say Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers out there.  You’re awesome.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	5. 5

Hero Hunt

Chapter 5

_The following takes place immediately after the events of Chapter 4._

 

Bruce rushed into the Batcave to find Tim already typing furiously at the computer.

“I’m already on it, Bruce,” the young man said.

Bruce placed a hand on the back of the chair and leaned over to see what Tim was looking at.  “What is this, son?”

Tim didn’t look up from his keyboard as he said, “Screen one is a local news feed.  Screen two is Titans Tower external security cameras.  Screen three is internal security cameras.  Screen four is social media feeds.”

Bruce found that last one to be a little strange, “This really isn’t the time or place to be checking your Facebook, Timothy.”

Tim rolled his eyes before looking up, “I’m checking to see what’s trending.  I’m flagging any mentions of the fire.  Maybe someone will be stupid enough to claim responsibility.”

“Do we know anything,” Bruce asked, pacing behind the computer chair.

“Internal cameras show the fire starting in or near the back-up generators.  The actual flashpoint is hidden from view.”

Bruce sighed, “So, this could be an accident?  A mechanical glitch?”

Tim shrugged, “Or, someone wants us to think it’s an accident, if we want to be paranoid.”

That really wasn’t what Bruce wanted to hear, “What say we be paranoid, Tim?”

“I thought you would say that,” Tim replied.

The father/son pair watched footage for several minutes before Bruce asked, “Did we have a satellite overhead?”

Tim scoffed, “We _always_ have a satellite overhead.”

“Download images from an hour before the attack.  Keep watch on the site for the next five hours.”

Tim sounded confused as he made the request, “Are you sure you want to call it an attack just yet?”  Bruce didn’t reply, so Tim said, “What do you think the after feed will tell us?”

“Call it a hunch,” Bruce said, “Anyway, the extra footage will give Damian something to review.  I told him I would find a way for him to help.”

Tim nodded, “Good, Bruce.  He’ll want to be kept in the loop.”

Bruce and Tim almost jumped as a notification flashed on the screen.  “Incoming video call,” Bruce read from the screen, “Where is it from?”

Tim traced the call and said, “League safehouse in San Francisco.”

Bruce nodded and Tim accepted the call, “Victor?”

Cyborg stared back from the screen, “Bruce, Tim, it’s good to see you.”

“What happened,” Bruce said, getting right down to business.

Cyborg shook his head, “I wish I could tell you, Bruce.  I was out, away from the Tower.  I got an alert of the fire while I was out grocery shopping.  I couldn’t get close to the building, with the emergency crews there, so I came here.”

“Were you followed,” Bruce asked seriously.

Victor shook his head, “I didn’t see anyone.”

Bruce winced, “You didn’t happen to check with thermal imaging, did you?”

“Should I,” Victor asked, concern in his voice.

Bruce looked at Tim, then back at the screen, “Do it now.  Check the building and the general vicinity for heat signatures.  Call us when it’s clear.”

Bruce disconnected the feed before Cyborg could reply.

Tim turned his chair to face Bruce, “What are you thinking, Bruce?”

“Something I don’t want to think,” Bruce replied.

“Invisible attackers,” Tim posited.

Bruce nodded, “The last thing we need is for Victor to have been followed to the safehouse.  Depending on how damaged the Tower is, we’ll be needing the second Zeta Tube.”

Bruce and Tim waited for another ten minutes before the video call link activated again.  Tim answered and asked, “How’s it look?”

“It’s clear,” Cyborg said, “Why am I checking thermal imaging?”

“Because our new enemy seems to have some sort of visual cloaking technology,” Bruce grumbled.

“New enemy,” Victor asked, surprised.

Bruce looked up at the screen, “The kids were attacked on their training hike by assailants no one could see.  They showed up on thermal imaging, though.  Preliminary research is pointing to the League, and not the kids, being the actual target.”

Victor nodded, “That’s why BB came back so soon.  He didn’t want to tell me why the training ended early.”

“He’s the one who tipped us off to the fire,” Bruce said.  “Walk me through what happened.”

“I don’t know much,” Victor said, “Like I said, I was at the grocery store when I got the alert.”

“How did you leave the tower,” Bruce asked.

“Same way I always do.  I took my car out through the service entrance.”

Bruce nudged Tim, “Mark that down as a possible point of entry.”  Bruce looked up again, “Continue, Victor.”

“I was gone for a half an hour or so when I got the alert.  I headed back to the tower but didn’t make it there.”

“Why not,” Tim asked.

“The police blocked off the roads,” Victor said, “The roads were only open to emergency personnel.”

“How close did you get,” Bruce asked.

Victor shrugged, “Five blocks, or so.  The radio was saying it was a pretty big fire, so I went to a nearby park to watch.”

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary,” Bruce asked.

Cyborg thought that was a strange question, but didn’t mention it, “Other than the Tower being on fire?  No, I didn’t.”

“And, you’re sure no one followed you,” Bruce asked.

Victor shook his head, “No.  I’m sure there is no one else currently inside or outside of the safehouse.  If I knew to scan for threats beforehand, I could give you a better answer to that question.”

Bruce sighed, “I guess that can’t be helped right now.”

The line fell silent for a minute before Cyborg said, “Internal fire suppression systems will take care of the fires inside the Tower, and local fire crews will take care of the external fires.  I’ll get back in and secure the area as soon as possible and evaluate the damage.”

Bruce nodded, “Let the League know if you need any help.  We are all on alert right now.”

Victor nodded, “Okay.  Talk to you later, Bruce.”

Victor was about to disconnect the link when Bruce called out, “Oh, wait.  Do you know where the Logan’s live?”

Victor looked up, “BB?  Sure.  Why?”

Bruce gave a small sigh, which was not noticed by the man on the other end of the call, “I heard half of his conversation with Damian.  It sounded like he’s pretty scared.  Do you think you could go check on him and his mother?”

Cyborg smiled, “Not a problem.  Can’t let my little intern feel unsafe out there.”

The call was ended and Tim looked at Bruce and said, “These people get around.  How do we want to tackle this?”

Bruce looked down at his son, “Pull all Titans Tower security footage.  I’ll get Damian working on that.  I want you to scour the Tower computer again; see if our intruders accessed anything since your last scan.”

Tim nodded as he turned back to the computer, “On it.”

Tim typed for a couple minutes.  While he was compiling results, Tim asked, “Who are these people, Bruce?  Do you really think the United Nations is out to get us?”

Bruce heaved a sigh, pacing behind the computer chair, “I wish I knew, Tim.  As for the U.N., I certainly hope they aren’t against us.  I would think we’ve earned a bit of latitude from them, not invisible attacks.”

Tim sighed, “Is it wrong to say that all this has me a little scared?”

Bruce stopped his pacing and turned the computer chair to face him.  Tim was confused at the look Bruce was sending his way.  Bruce reached down, grabbed Tim’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet.

“What…” Tim started as Bruce yanked the young man to his chest and squeezed him tightly.

“It’s okay, son.  It’s okay to be scared.  It helps keep you vigilant.”

Tim wrapped his arms around Bruce and laid his head on the man’s chest.  “Thanks, Dad,” Tim said softly.

The pair were quiet for a minute before Bruce said quietly, “We’ll find whoever this is, Tim.  We’ll uncover whoever really wants to hurt us.”

The computer beeped, and Tim sighed as he sat down again.  Bruce had a way of making all of his sons comfortable, and even though Tim rarely took advantage of it, it always made Tim feel better.  He tapped a couple keys and said, “Tower security cam footage has downloaded.  It doesn’t look like there has been any unauthorized access to Watchtower or Titans Tower servers since my last sweep.  I’ve got the U.N. link flagged, as well.  No recent utilization of that.”

Bruce took a deep breath, “Okay.”

The elevator dinged, and Bruce was surprised when two wheelchairs rolled out of the lift car.  Dick followed, pushing Barbara’s chair.

“What’s this,” Bruce asked.

“I thought we could use another hand in tracking these people down.  Babs was coming over for dinner tonight, anyway.”

“Hi, everyone,” Barbara said.

Bruce and Tim greeted Barbara, then Bruce turned to Damian, “Kiddo?  You weren’t feeling left out, were you?”

Damian shrugged, “You told me to watch the news coverage.  The fire is out, and the news moved on to other stories.  The reporter said there would be an update on the eleven o’clock news.  I set the DVR to record it, since that will be two AM our time.”

Bruce nodded and said, “Very good,” then checked his watch and gave a light wince, “It’s ten ‘til seven.  Let’s not be late for dinner, for a change.  There will be plenty of time after to get started on our search.”

_After Dinner…_

Following a leisurely dinner and a cordial conversation in the front sitting room that left more than one participant wondering if tonight was going to be the night where Dick finally proposed to Barbara, the family returned to the cave to prepare for their patrol.

Damian and Barbara rolled themselves out of the elevator, and Barbara said, “You seem to be doing better in the chair this time than last time.  How much longer are you going to need to use it?”

Damian sighed, “If Dr. Thompkins has her way, I’ll be in it until the cast comes off.  I find out more on Friday.”

Barbara smirked as they approached the computer, “Dick said you fell out of a tree and broke your ankle.  He said that over a civilian phone line, though.  What _really_ happened?”

Damian shook his head, “No, I really fell out of a tree.”

Barbara’s eyes widened, “Really?  Nothing more than that?”

A glint flashed in the teen’s eyes, “Okay, it was wilderness survival training with my team.  We dropped in by parachute, and a wind gust blew us off course.  I landed in a tree and got stuck.  Trying to get myself out, my parachute ripped, and I landed awkwardly on a root, snapping my ankle.  So, yes, I fell out of a tree.”

Barbara smiled, “I knew there was more to it.”

The Bat Phone started ringing, and Barbara started reaching for the handset when Damian said, “What are you doing?”

“It’s okay, I’ll get it.”

Damian shook his head, “Not with who will be on the other end of the line, you won’t.”

Barbara’s eyes widened, remembering that the only other phone that could call this one was in her Father’s office.

Damian answered the line, “Hello?”

Commissioner Gordon sounded confused at the youthful voice, “Batman?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Robin.”

“Is Batman out of town, or something,” the Commissioner asked, confused.

Damian tried not to sigh, knowing this would keep happening for the next few years, “He’s indisposed at the moment, but will be available soon.  What is the problem?”

The older man wasn’t sure if he should wait of just keep going, “There’s been a breakout at Arkham.  The guards were able to handle it, for the most part, but a couple inmates escaped.”

Damian nodded, “Well, that was their mistake.  Who are we looking for?”

“Hold on,” Gordon said.

There was a mumbled conversation on the other side of the line that Damian couldn’t make out.  After a minute, Jim returned to the call, “Sorry about that.  I just got an update.  We caught two of the three escapees.  Now, the only one we’re missing is Two Face.”

Damian gasped, and his eyes widened dramatically.  He wasn’t sure how he would ever react to hearing that name again.  Fighting off flashbacks, Damian said, “O-okay.  We’ll get right on it, Commissioner.”

Damian hung up Bat Phone and stared numbly at the computer console, remembering how his last run-in with Two Face had nearly cost Damian his life.  Barbara glanced worriedly at the teen and his sudden change in demeanor, “Damian?”

Damian just shook his head, not replying to the call.

Bruce and Dick walked up to the computer, with Tim trailing behind.  “What’s wrong,” Dick asked.

Barbara spoke up, “He just answered a call from Dad on the Bat Phone.”

Bruce turned to his son, “Damian?”

Damian breathed hard, “It’s not fair,” the teen mumbled.

Bruce took a knee next to Damian’s chair, “What’s going on, kiddo?”

Damian’s head whipped around, and he looked up at Bruce with his eyes blazing, “The Commissioner called.  Two Face broke out of Arkham, and you need to put him in the ground.  You need to do to him what he tried to do to me.  It’s not fair, I tell you.  It’s not _fucking_ FAIR!”

Dick and Tim met each other’s eyes worriedly before Dick turned back to their youngest and asked, “What’s not fair?”

“I’m stuck in this damn chair while he’s out walking the streets,” Damian said harshly.

Bruce nodded, “I’ll get him, son.  I’ll make him pay, but you need to calm down.”

“I can’t,” Damian shouted, “There are only a few things that are able to calm me, you know that.  I can’t do _any_ of them when I’m stuck in this damn chair.”

Bruce met Dick’s eyes, and they both knew it was true.  All of the coping skills that tended to work on Damian when he was this riled up all involved physical activity.  Damian had been restricted from all of those activities with his injury.

Damian sat in his wheelchair, shaking in frustration and impotent rage, as Tim stepped forward with a sigh and held his arms out to his sides.  “Go ahead, Damian.  Get it out of your system.”

Damian looked up strangely, “Get what out of my system?”

_Please tell me that I’m doing the right thing here._   “You can’t go to the punching bag.  I’m bringing the punching bag to you.”

Damian looked like he was considering the proposition seriously before he shook his head, “I’m not going to hit you, Tim.”

Bruce released a silent breath as Tim took a step closer, “You have to do something.  Bruce has a lot for you to review tonight.  You’ll never be able to concentrate on it if you don’t find a way to let out this anger.”

_He’s right._   “I’m better than that,” Damian growled out.

Tim smiled, “I know you are.  I’m giving you one for free, though; to get the process going.  Think about everything Two Face did to you…did to _us_.  Think about everything he was _going_ to do to you.  Two Face is on the streets, a free man, and…OH GOD!”

Damian’s arm had moved almost faster than the cave occupants could see, punching straight into Tim’s crotch, which was at the perfect punching height for the seated teen.  Tim hit the ground hard, and Damian, still enraged, used his good leg to propel himself out of his chair, diving at Tim with a war cry.  Dick caught Damian in mid air before he could land on Tim and continue his assault.

“Sorry, Little D.  He only gave you one for free.  Do you feel better now?”

“No,” Damian snarled.  “Now I’m feeling angry _and_ guilty.  That didn’t help at all.”

Bruce was kneeling beside the softly moaning Tim, “What were you thinking, Tim?”

“That he’d aim higher,” Tim groaned.

Dick was settling Damian back in his wheelchair when he noticed Barbara’s eyes were as wide as they could get.  “Babs?”

“I’ve never seen anyone drop that fast,” she said softly.

Dick smiled, “Damian is all about quick takedowns.”

Bruce stood again, and Damian sighed, “I’m sorry, Tim.”

“I think I’ll have Dinah stop over tonight while we’re out catching Two Face,” Bruce said.  He then asked, “Did your cast touch the floor?”

Damian shook his head, staring at his lap, “No, Father.  I’ll just go to my room, then.”

“Why,” Bruce asked.

“You told me that if I ever intentionally hit my brothers again, I would be grounded.”

Bruce scowled at having his own words thrown back at him.  He _had_ said that, but that was the last thing he wanted right now.  “I’m glad that you listened to me, Damian, but you have more important things to do right now than to sit and contemplate your perceived discretions.  I need you to review the Titans Tower security footage.”

“I’m not grounded,” Damian asked, confused.

Bruce shook his head, “You didn’t want to hit Tim.  You said so yourself.”

Damian sighed, then shouted, “I can’t stand this anymore!  I told Dr. Thompkins I wouldn’t be able to handle being stuck in a chair.  I need to be out there, before I start losing my mind.”

Tim called out, still lying on the floor, “Tell you what.  You put on a mask, we’ll bring Two Face over when we catch him, and you can take out your frustrations on him.”

Despite saying he was unable to calm down on his own, Damian was starting to relax.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea; not if you want me to keep my promise to not kill anyone.  You three just need to go out there and break Two Face in half.”

Dick smiled as he helped Tim up, “Right.  He’ll be back in Arkham tonight, but they’ll have to change his name to Four Face.”

Tim took a deep breath and approached Damian.  He nearly doubled over on the short trip but stopped himself and held a hand out to the teen.  Damian cringed away from the perceived strike, but when he realized it wasn’t going to come, he reached out and took Tim’s hand gently.

Tim nodded once and said softly, “We’ll get him, Little Brother.  You can count on that.”

Damian nodded.

Bruce walked over and rested a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Damian, the security footage.  You know what we’re looking for.  Barbara, I would like you to look into the U.N. connection and see if you can find the source of the Watchtower access.  Hopefully you can narrow it down to the actual person who is looking into us.

Damian and Barbara nodded and turned to the computer to start their work as the Bats headed for the Batmobile.

_Very Early the Following Morning…_

The Batmobile returned to the cave in the wee hours of the morning, and three grumbling Bats made their way to the showers.

“Well, that was particularly unsatisfying,” Tim said.

Dick nodded as he turned on his shower, “Yeah.  Who would have thought he would just give up like that?”

“He wasn’t out long enough to hook up with his old contacts,” Bruce said, “If he had any sort of back-up, he would have fought back.”

“Who’s going to break the news to Damian,” Tim asked.

The locker room was silent until Dick looked around and said, “One, two, three…NOT IT!”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I’ll tell him.  I gave the order to hold back, I’ll explain why.”

The trio headed out of the locker room after their showers and walked over to the computer.  Barbara was yawning as she asked, “Did you get him?”

“Yes, Two Face is back in Arkham,” Bruce said, looking at Damian’s empty wheelchair, “Where is he?”

Barbara hitched a thumb at Bruce’s normal chair.  Bruce turned and asked, “Did he walk over there?”

Barbara shrugged, “He hopped.  Fell asleep about an hour ago.”

Bruce nodded as Dick leaned down and kissed Barbara, and Tim pulled more chairs over.  “Did he do any of the research I asked him to do?”

Barbara nodded, “He said he was done, and was just waiting for you to get home.”

“How about your search,” Dick asked.

Barbara sighed, “I’ve narrowed down the search requests to which terminals asked for the information.  Accessing user logs is a bit harder, but I’ll get there.  The Watchtower data was accessed from four different terminals, all located in mid-range security areas of the U.N. building in New York.  It doesn’t tell us much yet, but it does narrow down the list of potential suspects.  Those terminals require a security clearance to be used, and there aren’t many of those floating around.”

Tim looked at Bruce and asked, “Who even knows about the Watchtower link at the U.N.?  I can’t think that would be common knowledge outside of the U.N. Security Council.”

Bruce shook his head, “It’s not even supposed to be common knowledge _inside_ the Security Council.  The Secretary General is supposed to be the only one with full access.”

“Well, the secret is obviously out,” Barbara said.

Dick looked disturbed when he said, “So, we’re investigating the United Nations, an organization full of diplomats.  What is the possibility of the person we’re looking for holding Diplomatic Immunity?”

Bruce sighed heavily, not wanting to consider that possibility at this point, “Let’s not go looking for more trouble than we already have, okay?  We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Turning back to Barbara, Bruce asked, “When were the files accessed?”

Barbara consulted her notes, “First access was three weeks ago.  Last access request was last week.”

Bruce cocked his head, “Only the two?”

“Yep.”

“Then how can there be four terminals used for the breaches?”

Tim tapped his chin, “It must be a coordinated effort; multiple hackers at once.  I’ll check on that tomorrow.”

Bruce looked at his computer-savvy children, “Get me a list of what was accessed when, and by whom.”

Tim nodded, “That shouldn’t be too hard.  We can track that through the IP addresses.”

A yawn from the computer chair caught everyone’s attention.  Damian turned the chair, keeping his cast propped up on the computer console for as long as he could.  Dick pushed Damian’s wheelchair over and set Damian’s cast in the chair, so he could turn to face the family.

Damian stroked Alfred the cat, who was curled up in the boy’s lap sleeping, and asked, “Did you get him?”

Bruce nodded, “Two Face is back in Arkham.”

Damian matched the nod, “Good.”

Dick couldn’t stop himself from snorting a laugh, “Can you not sit like that?”

Damian looked down at himself, “Sit like what?”

“Like that.  Sitting in a high-backed chair, wearing all black, stroking a cat; you look like a Bond villain.”

Damian rolled his eyes hard as Tim and Barbara laughed.  Tim leaned over to Dick and said softly, but not softly enough that he wasn’t overheard, “No, Mr. Grayson, I expect you to die.”

Bruce released a slow breath and shook his head, “What did you find, Damian?”

Damian didn’t reply, but turned back to the computer and started pressing buttons.  Damian had made a string of security images into a video timeline of events.  Bruce noticed they were all in thermal image view as Damian started narrating the events on screen, “Here is Cyborg leaving the Tower.  There, approaching from the North, you have four bogeys entering as the door is closing.”  The view changed to the parking garage cameras, “They make their way through the garage,” another shift, “Down the service corridor,” another shift, “Into the Maintenance Bay,” and another, “And into the Generator Room.”

The figures on screen pulled a device out of a bag, and Damian paused the playback, “Their technology is definitely photo-reflective suits.”

“How sure are you,” Bruce asked.

Damian hit play again and the image switched back to regular video surveillance.  A magically floating box could be seen next to a rip in the space-time continuum leading to the inside of a back pack.

Tim whistled, “Damn, that’s clever.”

Damian switched back to the thermal image as the box disappeared behind the generator and the backpack was closed, “They set their device and exited the room,” camera shift, “Exited the Maintenance Bay,” camera shift, “Down the service corridor,” camera shift, “Through the parking garage,” camera shift, “And out the service entrance.  They knew exactly where they were going, and that is the only place they went.  Time on target was less than three minutes.”

Bruce nodded, not too happy with everything he was being presented, “Okay.  Send a copy of this to Cyborg.  At least we know what we’re looking for now.”

“Where did they go after they left,” Dick asked.

Damian pressed a key, continuing his playback.  The next image came from the satellite camera.  Four heat signatures ran away from the building, but stopped roughly two hundred feet from the structure.

“Wait, they stayed to watch,” Tim asked, confused.

“Why would they wait there,” Bruce asked.

“Because they’re smarter than we are giving them credit for,” Damian said, “Just watch.”

The screen flashed as the bomb exploded.  After a minute of watching the flames, the image started to flicker.

“What’s happening with the feed,” Dick asked.

Damian turned to look at his oldest brother, “Think about it.  This is thermal imaging trying to keep track of small heat signatures, who are standing next to a large heat signature.”

“What’s going on with the targets,” Bruce asked.  The four dots had multiplied, and Bruce asked, “Is that image artifacting?”

Damian shook his head, “Let’s watch the explosion on the regular video feed.”

Damian hit play, and the feed showed the destruction of the bomb blast and the resulting fire.  Within a couple minutes, a crowd started forming around the disaster.  The milling crowd got as close as they could, until the police showed up and dispersed the crowd.

Bruce released a big breath, “They got lost in the crowd.  They must have been planning for us to be watching with thermal imaging.”

“Can you tag and follow them from the earlier image,” Tim asked.

Damian shook his head, “No.  I tried.  There’s too much interference from the fire, and too many people around.  Maybe you can, but I can’t.  I’m at my limit for what I know how to do.”

Bruce clapped a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “You did good, son.  This is a lot more that I thought we would get.”

“I’ll take a look at it tomorrow,” Tim said.

Bruce looked around and said, “I guess this is all we can do for now.  Let’s get some sleep and hit it again tomorrow.”

Bruce settled Damian back in his wheelchair, ignoring the hiss from Alfred as Damian was moved and the cat was woken.

Tim was trudging up the stairs and Dick was pushing Barbara to the elevator as Damian asked softly, “Did you make Two Face regret wanting a taste of fresh air?”

Bruce looked uncomfortable as he said, “Well, not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harvey showed what kind of man he really is tonight,” Bruce said.

“What kind of man is that,” Damian asked curiously.

Bruce looked down seriously at his son, “A coward.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Well, yeah.  You couldn’t figure that out from when he tortured a twelve-year old for information, then left me to die?”

Bruce sat down in the computer chair, passing the cat to his son, “You’re right.  He has shown his true colors several times.”

“What happened, Father?”

Bruce leaned forward, “We tracked Two Face to Eastern Warehouse Row.  He hadn’t been out long enough to contact any of his connections yet.  He was literally sitting on a trash can in an alley when we surrounded him.  He told us that, if he had his henchmen, he might have put up a fight.  Since he was alone, he gave up.  He went peacefully, which was more than he deserved.”

Damian nodded, “Since he gave up, you couldn’t justify beating him.  I understand, Father.  I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“Welcome to the club, kid.”

Bruce and Damian looked up at the voice to see Jason stepping out of a shadow.

“How long have you been there,” Damian asked.

“Long enough,” Jason replied cryptically.

“Don’t worry, Father,” Damian said when he could take his eyes off of Jason, “Neither of us hate you anymore.”

Bruce was waiting for a dissenting opinion from Jason.  When it didn’t come, Bruce nodded and said, “Then, let’s go to bed.”

 

**A/N:  What a busy last couple weeks.  I’m surprised I was able to get anything done on this.  Next chapter will start answering some of the questions that have been posed over the last few chapters.  Of course, it will also raise a few more questions.  I like keeping all of you guessing as to what’s going on for as long as possible.**

**I’d love to hear what you think of this one so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	6. 6

Hero Hunt

Chapter 6

 

“What do you mean he’s in the pool?”

Alfred was struck silent for a minute at the vehemence in Bruce’s exclamation.

Bruce dropped his briefcase and stalked towards the back door to confront his youngest son, who should have known better than to be anywhere a body of water.  Bruce trusted his son, but he knew Jason or Dick would at least try to take advantage of the situation, and throw the teen into the pool.  Alfred followed as quickly as he could, but couldn’t catch up to Bruce before the man made it out the back door.

Bruce stopped short as he saw Damian laying on a deck chair, next to the pool.  Alfred grabbed Bruce’s shoulder softly and said, “I didn’t say he was in the pool, Master Bruce.  I said he was _at_ the pool.  That is exactly where I left him after lunch, and it doesn’t appear as if he has moved.  If I am not mistaken, I believe Master Damian is asleep.”

Bruce nodded slowly after staring at Damian for half a minute.  “I’m sorry, Alfred.  I shouldn’t have snapped like that.  It wasn’t a good day at the office.  The last thing I needed was to have to come home and discipline Damian.”

Alfred defended the sleeping teen, “I assure you, sir, there is no need for that.  Master Damian has been a perfect gentleman today.  If anything, I would say that he needs the opposite of disciplining right now.”

Bruce looked over at Alfred and asked, “What do you mean?”

Alfred spoke softly, “Master Damian has been particularly subdued today.  If he has said more than three sentences today, I would be surprised.  He hasn’t been rude; neither has he been talkative.”

Bruce sighed, “I explained why I couldn’t beat Harvey.  He understood that.”

“That doesn’t mean he accepts it, Bruce.”

“I know,” Bruce said in a sigh.

They were quiet for a minute before Alfred said, “What the young master needs, Master Bruce, is a hug, and some quiet understanding.”

Bruce nodded slowly, “I can at least give him that.”

Alfred returned to the house with Bruce’s suit jacket and tie as Bruce walked out to the deck around the pool.  As Alfred had said, Damian was asleep.  Bruce smiled down at the boy as he adjusted the umbrella to cover Damian’s lounge chair.  From the way it had been set up, Bruce could tell that Damian had been out here for some time; at least long enough for the sun to shift.

Bruce sat down gently on the edge of the chair.  He scooted a couple inches closer to Damian, to keep from falling off the edge of the chair, and hesitated when bright blue eyes opened narrowly to peer at him.

“Sorry,” Bruce said quietly.

Damian didn’t react; he just kept staring at his Father.

Bruce nodded after a minute and asked, “I know you said you weren’t mad at me last night, but are you mad at me, son?”

Damian continued to stare, a small snort the only evidence Bruce had been heard.  Finally, just as the situation was starting to get uncomfortable for Bruce, Damian said quietly, “Not everything is all about you, Father.”

Bruce gave a soft smirk as Damian sat up quickly and wrapped his arms around his Father.  Bruce pulled the boy in tight, giving a small sigh as Damian pressed his face into Bruce’s shoulder.  _A quiet hug and some reassurance.  That’s all he needs right now.  One of these days I’ll get better at this parenting thing.  Unfortunately, it will probably be just in time for my grandkids._

Bruce absently rubbed a finger along the knife scar on the back of Damian’s left arm.  He spoke quietly, “You can talk to me, you know.”

Damian sighed, his voice muffled by Bruce’s shoulder, “It won’t do any good.  I’m just frustrated.  I was hoping being outside would help.”

“Has it,” Bruce asked.

“I guess,” Damian replied, pulling back to look up at Bruce.

“You’re handling this whole situation well, son,” Bruce said, “I know you want to be doing more.  You’ll get there, if you just let yourself heal.”

Damian laid his head back on Bruce’s chest, “I know; it’s just hard.”

Bruce’s hand rose to the back of Damian’s head, cradling it against his chest, “Have you given any more thought about your place on your team?”

“Should I,” Damian asked quietly.

“The League observes what you teach the kids, you know.”

“Checking to make sure I’m following your lesson plan?”

Bruce blushed a bit, “Well, yes, actually.  We also want to see how the kids are coming along.  We never would have recommended your training mission if we didn’t think your team was ready.”

Damian asked, “Why didn’t we start with something smaller?  Like, a weekend at Mount Justice, or on the Watchtower?”

Bruce smiled, “You guys already survived three weeks at Mount Justice.  We wanted to challenge you.”

Damian looked up, “Me personally, or the team as a whole?”

“The team as a whole,” Bruce said, his hand gently rubbing up and down on his son’s back.  “Your team has progressed much faster than the League predicted.  You’re all still kids, though.”

“I resent that remark, Father,” Damian said with a smirk.

Bruce matched the smirk, “I know you do.  Just know that you are the only one who thinks you don’t belong as the team leader.  How about we go inside, into the air conditioning?  Dinner should be coming up soon.”

Damian sat back and nodded, “Okay, Father.”

Bruce got up and rolled the wheelchair over.  Damian stood, balancing on his good leg, before sitting gingerly in the chair.

“I would have helped you with that, you know,” Bruce said.

“I know.”

Bruce kneeled down and inspected the bottom of Damian’s cast with a smile.  He was fairly certain that the teen was unaware of the happy face that had been drawn on the bottom of his foot, which was most likely the work of Dick.  Instead of pointing it out, Bruce said, “I see you haven’t been walking.”

“Not on that foot, at least,” Damian said, “Dr. Thompkins said I could use crutches to get around in my room.  I needed the exercise.”

Bruce cocked his head, “As long as Leslie said it was okay, I don’t have a problem with it.”

“She did,” Damian assured his Father.

Bruce looked around, “Where’s your shirt?”

“In my room.”

Bruce nodded, “Then, we’ll head up to your room.”

Bruce reached out and laid two fingers lightly on the thick scar marring his son’s chest, “That one didn’t heal too well.”

Damian looked down with a scowl, “Mother didn’t give Dr. Thompkins much to work with when she cauterized the wound she caused.”

Bruce’s lips turned down, “Do you…”

Damian interrupted, “I don’t hold it against Dr. Thompkins, Father.  She did what she could.  It’s a good thing we’ll never see Mother again.  I might be inclined to give her a scar just like mine.”

Bruce saw an urgent need to change the subject, not in the least because he didn’t like hearing Damian refer to Talia as Mother.  _He hated her for years.  He still hates her, but why is she ‘Mother’ again?_

“How does your ankle feel?”

Damian sighed, “I can tell that it’s healing.  It’s itching like crazy.”

Bruce gave a small smile, “We’ll find out more in a couple days.  Remember, I’m taking you to your appointment on Friday.”

“Yes, Father.”

The tone of voice caught Bruce’s attention.  _That was warmth in his voice.  Who knew?_

_Later…_

After dinner, while Damian took a call from Robin and Dick called Barbara, Bruce, Jason, and Tim went downstairs to the cave.

“We need to start narrowing down the suspect pool a bit.  I’m still hesitant to believe that this is a conspiracy by the U.N. against us.  I want some better leads.  Have either of you found anything?”

Bruce had assigned each of his sons special tasks in order to find out more about what was going on.  They knew so little at this point that everything was still on the table.

Jason huffed as he spun his chair around and sat, leaning his chest against the seat back.  “I haven’t found anything.  I’ve been leaning on all of our informants, yours and mine.  I think I provided them more information than they gave me.  No one knows anything about a larger conspiracy targeting us.  Several of them might want to join in on a conspiracy against us, but none of them could tell me anything about current plans.”

Bruce sighed at the news, “That’s not all that surprising.  Why travel three states away to attack us when we’re right here?”

Jason looked confused, and a little angry, “If you didn’t think it was a local job, then why did I have to work over our informants for the last two days?”

“Just crossing it off the list,” Bruce explained, “A local group wouldn’t think about packing Kryptonite.  That actually answers a big question for us, Jason.”

“Which is,” Tim asked.

“We specifically aren’t the targets,” Bruce replied.  “We need to expand our search beyond Gotham.  Have you come up with anything, Tim?”

Bruce and Jason turned to the youngest member of the trio and found a disappointed scowl on his face.  Tim looked down and mumbled, “I wish I hadn’t.”

That caught Bruce’s attention, “What do you mean?”

Jason nudged Tim, “What did you find, Replacement?”

The trio sat down around the computer as Tim spoke, “You wanted me to search for possible enemies.  Well, I hit a wall.  I couldn’t find anyone who would want to attack us.  So…I Googled it.”

Jason looked at Tim strangely, “You Googled our enemies?”

Tim shrugged, “I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”

“What did you find,” Bruce asked.

“More than I wanted.”  Tim pulled up his search results, “I found twenty-five thousand Facebook pages dedicated to anti-Hero sentiment.”  Tim clicked on one and brought up a page devoted to the haters of Red Robin, “I think this one is yours, Jason.”

Bruce rolled his eyes while Jason took a closer look and shook his head, “No, mine has an animated background.”

Not taking the time to consider if Jason was being truthful, Tim continued, “I’m not worried about any of these pages, or anything else that came up in the Google search, but it got me thinking.  Are any of these people going to do anything about their thoughts?  So, I did another search.  If Facebook is where people go to complain, where are the people going to go for action?”

“Where’s that,” Bruce asked.

Tim wasn’t sure if Bruce really didn’t know, or if he was asking for Jason’s benefit, but said, “The Dark Web.  Like I said, I wasn’t worried about what I found on the internet.  I’m scared to death of what I found on the Dark Web.”

Jason smirked, “Those pictures I posted of you aren’t _that_ frightening.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “This is serious, Jason.  What did you find, Tim?”

“Like I said, more than I wanted.”  Tim brought a second set of search results onto the screen.  “There are a lot of groups out there who hate the Hero community.  A _lot_ of them.  A lot of them consist of people who have been busted by heroes.  There are a few set up as advertising hit services, like this one.”  Tim selected a link, “This guy calls himself Deathstroke, and he claims he can take out anyone, from your next-door neighbor all the way up to Superman.”

Jason scoffed, but Bruce just sighed, “I’ve heard of him.  He is as good as he says, Jason.  Rumor for a while was that he got the same training that Damian and I did.  We can’t confirm that, but we can’t dismiss it, either.  He’s not our man in this case, though.”

Tim looked up at Bruce strangely, trying not to think about the possibility of another League of Assassins-trained mercenary on the loose, “Are you sure, Bruce?”

Bruce nodded, “Deathstroke always works alone.  The kids were attacked by six people, and were left alive when the attack was over.  It’s not his style.”

“You’re not telling us everything you know, Bruce,” Jason said suspiciously.

Bruce shook his head, “We had a run-in about fifteen years ago.  Can’t say I really ever want to meet him again.”

Tim and Jason eyed each other nervously.  It was not often where Bruce sounded as nervous as he just had, and it made Tim and Jason very glad that Bruce was taking Deathstroke off the suspect list.

After an extended moment of contemplative silence, Bruce asked, “What else do you have, Tim?”

Tim took a deep breath, “Outside of the assassin services and the generalized ‘bitch and moan’ groups, we have the more structured groups.  It seems that every member of the Justice League has a hate page.  Even a couple of the kids in Damian’s group have them.  After analyzing these pages, I’ve narrowed down my suspects to a specific group of pages.  These groups are organized and focused and they have an agenda.  I think we’re looking for one of these groups.”

Bruce thought hard for a second, not liking the idea of the kids group gaining that kind of notoriety this early on in their training.  _That sounds more like what we should be looking for.  I never would have thought to look for a larger conspiracy like this.  I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the United Nations trying to attack us.  Now, we’re thinking of a worldwide conspiracy?  Are we sure this isn’t one of Alfred’s mystery novel plots?_

Bruce was afraid to ask, “How many groups are we talking about?”

Tim looked over, “There are probably a dozen of these groups that I would classify in the serious threat category, but I’ve narrowed the serious contenders down to three.”

Bruce heaved an internal sigh of relief, “How sure are you about these groups?”

Tim sighed, “Bruce, I’m not sure about anything on this case.”

Bruce nodded slowly, “Okay.  It’s okay, son.  Why don’t you tell us about these groups?”

Tim turned back to the computer and began to type, bringing up his search results.  Dick entered the cave and approached the family, “Started the party without me?”

“There’s a lot to go over,” Bruce said.

“Should I go get Damian,” Dick asked, “You know how much he likes being left out of these discussions.”

Bruce thought about it.  Tim and Jason stared at Bruce, knowing their youngest brother’s fragile ego.

Before Bruce could decide, the elevator opened and the teen in question rolled into the cave.  “What’s going on,” Damian asked suspiciously.

Covering their previous conversation, Bruce said, “There you are.  We waited for you.  I was just about to send Dick to go get you.  Tim found a possible lead.  Tim?”

Damian eyed Bruce and said, “I doubt that, but whatever.  Continue.”

Tim looked back and forth between Bruce and Damian before shrugging and saying, “Right.  Well, as I was going to say, I ran into a roadblock when searching for potential enemies, so I broadened my search.  I’m now focusing on three potential groups that I found on the Dark Web.”  Tim pointed at the screen, “The first one calls themselves ‘Anti-Hero’.  Stupid name, I know, but they claim to have highly-placed allies in over ninety countries around the world.  They don’t exactly sound militant, but they are very organized.  From their language and syntax usage, my guess is they are based in southern Europe.  Maybe Greece or Turkey.  They don’t specify on their site.”

“Why are they a potential target,” Dick asked.

Tim brought up another page, “They seem to be taking their philosophy from The Incredibles.  A hero’s secret identity should be their only identity."

Bruce looked critically at Tim, “Do you think they aim to put us out of business, or do they want to kill us?”

“Definitely out of business,” Tim said.

“That would make sense,” Damian said, “They came after us with non-lethal weapons.”

Dick nodded, “And, they waited until Cyborg was out of the Tower before setting the fire.”

“Okay, they stay on the list,” Bruce said, “Who’s next?”

Tim selected another link on his list and brought up a second page.  “The next group call themselves Pure Earth.”

“Environmentalists?  Eco-terrorists,” Jason asked.

“Not exactly,” Tim replied.

“Are heroes bad for the environment,” Dick asked.

Tim shrugged, “In a manner of speaking, I guess.  It all depends on if you want to see things their way.  This is a relatively new group, and they are advocating a planet free of superheroes.  They were formed after the Brainiac invasion last year, and they claim that the war destroyed large portions of the planet’s ecosystem.”

“They’re not wrong,” Bruce said.

“No, they’re not,” Tim agreed, “There are some areas that are still rebuilding.  However, according to this group, the invasion was squarely the fault on the Metas.  If there were no Metas on Earth, then Brainiac would have had no reason to invade the planet, and the massive death and destruction wouldn’t have happened.  At least, according to Pure Earth propaganda.”

Bruce and Damian were both stroking their chins in deep thought, a move that left Dick barely able to stifle his laugh.

“That would explain how they knew how to take down my team,” Damian said.

Bruce nodded, “You have to study your enemy to know their weaknesses.  Any idea where this group is from, Tim?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah.  This group is making it absolutely clear where they’re from.  South Vietnam, one of the areas hardest hit by the war.”

Bruce shook his head, “I still don’t understand why Brainiac went after Southeast Asia.  Reported instances of Meta activity are incredibly low in that area.”

“Whatever their reason, they did,” Tim sighed, “No idea of the size of the group.  They just claim to have members all over the world.”

“It could be either of these groups,” Jason pointed out.

“Or both,” Damian said darkly.

No one really wanted to think about that prospect.

Dick shrugged, “There are aspects of both groups that fit the profile.”

“You said there was a third group, Tim,” Bruce asked.

Tim stood and stretched before sitting back at the computer, “Yeah.  This one might be a bit of a longshot, but they are the most militant group I’ve come across so far, so they can’t be discounted yet.  Long name on this one: Superheroes Ruined My Life, and They Will Ruin Yours, Too.”

“Not too subtle, are they,” Jason stated.

“How subtle do you have to be on the Dark Web,” Bruce asked.

Jason shook his head, “I don’t see why we are taking these particular groups any more seriously than we would other groups.”

Tim sighed, “Because of where I found them.  You go to Facebook to bitch and moan and complain.  You go to the Dark Web to get stuff done.  None of these groups would be putting out these ideas if they didn’t plan to eventually do something about it…about us.  Would it surprise you to know that every one of our major Gotham criminals maintains a presence on this last site?”

To prove his point, Tim clicked on several links found on the site.  Pages for the Joker, the Penguin, Two Face, the Riddler, and the Falcone Crime Family flashed up on the screen.  Jason nodded slowly, starting to see the wisdom in looking into these groups.

The cave was silent for a minute before Tim continued speaking, “This is by far the largest group, and the longest running.  Most of the pages are devoted to ways that superheroes have stopped these people’s crimes, but there is a smaller section that is more concerning.  This is basically a group forum on ways to plot against heroes, and fairly comprehensive lists of our weaknesses.”

“What do they have listed as Batman’s weakness,” Damian asked curiously, knowing that would be one of the first things Tim would have checked.

Tim took a deep breath before turning in his chair and responding, “You.”

Damian scowled and snapped harshly, “That’s not funny, Drake.”

“Do you see me laughing,” Tim spat back, “Ever since Dick was a child, it’s been an open secret that the best way to get to Batman is to attack Robin.  Right now, that’s you.  You can get pissed off about it all you want, but you can’t argue facts.”

Damian shot Tim a stony look before breaking off eye contact and staring down at his lap.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry,” Damian said softly.

Bruce looked back and forth between his younger children before asking, “Anything in there matching how the kids were attacked?”

Tim shook his head, “I don’t know yet, Bruce.  There are hundreds of thousands of entries in their forum.  It’ll take years to go through them all.”

Bruce took a sharp breath, “You’ll have help.  Damian, that’s you.  I don’t want you two going through every entry, just enough to get a good overview of what this group is about.  I want you two to know it well enough to give a briefing on the subject tomorrow.”

Tim’s and Damian’s eyes widened in surprise, and they both said, “Tomorrow?”

Bruce nodded, “Yes.  We’ve called a special meeting to give the League updates.  Tim, you are briefing the Justice League.  Damian, you’ve been cleared to let the kids know what’s going on.  The update meeting we wanted you to hold with your team yesterday is happening here tomorrow.  Tell them what we know so far, answer their questions, and let them know that they, and you, might be called on to provide logistical support.  The League feels that, since you were this group’s first victims, you all deserve to know how the investigation is going.”

“They’re coming here, Father,” Damian asked.

Bruce nodded, “They will stay with you in the cave while the League meets on the Watchtower.  You confirmed that your whole team knows your identity, so you don’t have to worry about being in uniform.”

Dick smiled, “If you want, you can wear my old Robin uniform.  That will be a lot easier to get over the cast than your uniform pants.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I’m not even comfortable being seen by my team in these shorts, much less the panties you used to traipse around town in.  I’ll figure something out.”

Shaking his head, Bruce turned back to a softly giggling Tim, “Is there any connection between these three groups that you’ve been able to find?”

Tim shook his head, “I haven’t looked.  The groups might have some members in common, but they seem a little too different to be in league with each other.”

Jason nudged Tim, “You never said where this third group is located.”

“No one asked,” Tim said, “They are homegrown, right here in the good ole U.S. of A.  Um, Colorado, to be exact.  They claim membership from all over the world, just like the other groups, though.”

“Any espoused government connections,” Dick asked.

“Nothing specific.  The first group, Anti-Hero, did say they have highly-placed members.  Who knows what that could actually mean, though.”

The Batphone started ringing on the computer console.  Damian paled slightly and pushed his wheelchair away from the computer.

“Nope.  I’m not getting that this time.”

Bruce shook his head as he lifted the receiver from the cradle, “Batman here.”

Dick approached Damian and laid a hand on his shoulder, “You okay, Little Brother?”

Damian was still eyeing Bruce as he said, “Fine.  I don’t want to know who escaped this time, though.”

Dick sighed, “Do you need a hug, Damian?”

Damian glared up at Dick and scoffed, “Tt.  No.”

Dick nodded sadly, his arms dropping back to his side.  Before Dick could turn away, Damian said softly, “I don’t need one.  I want one, though.”

The smile returned to Dick’s face as he knelt down and nearly ripped Damian out of his chair.

Bruce turned around after hanging up the phone and hesitated at the sight of his sons.  _Why do I have to be the one to break up moments like this?_

Bruce hesitated for another couple seconds before calling out, “Suit up.  Gotham First Federal’s silent alarm was just tripped.  Let’s go catch some bank robbers.  Damian, get to work on that analysis.”

Dick straightened up and shoved Damian’s chair back towards the computer.

“Let’s get moving.”

 

**A/N: It seems that, the more I write this story, the more ideas I get.  I have had to rewrite my outline from scratch after finishing each of the last three chapters.  I’ve been moving around events and adding connections to suit the story.  I thought this story would come in at ten chapters, but my last outline added an additional two chapters, so we are looking at twelve chapters now.**

**At this point, I was going to have my loyal readers vote on which of the three groups you would like to see as the actual bad guys.  However, I know which one I’m going to use, so that would have been kind of pointless.  Still, if you want to let me know your preference, I’ll probably ignore it in the grand scheme, but add in a little more foreshadowing into the next few chapters before I reveal the true culprits.**

**Please let me know what you think so far, and if you are still interested in seeing where this goes.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	7. 7

Hero Hunt

Chapter 7

 

“Could you explain to me the usefulness of holding two separate meetings, covering the same information, at the same time?”

Damian rolled himself back and forth outside of the locker room as the rest of the family got dressed.

“I’ve already explained this to you earlier, Damian,” Bruce called from inside the locker room.

Damian nodded while rolling his eyes, “Yes, you want the kids to be informed.  Why can’t they be informed in your meeting?”

Bruce matched the eye roll unknowingly, “Because they are your team, and you need to exert your leadership role.”

Damian sighed softly.  _I guess this is their way of saying that they aren’t looking into changing my team’s leadership, even if I’m not sure I should still be their leader._   “What are you going to cover in your meeting that you don’t want the kids to hear,” Damian asked suspiciously.

Dick chuckled from inside the locker room, “I told you he’d catch on to that.”

Bruce sighed as he walked out of the locker room, holding his cowl.  He grabbed the handles of Damian’s wheelchair and pushed the teen away from the locker room.  Settling in his computer chair, Bruce turned Damian to face him.  “We want you to inform the kids of what has happened so far in the investigation.  Our meeting will do the same, but we will then talk about what we can do, going forward.”

“…And you don’t want the kids involved in that because?”

Bruce met Damian’s eyes, “We don’t want to scare them.”

Damian cocked his head, “But, it’s okay if I scare them?  The only one who doesn’t do an active patrol is Beast Boy.  The rest all take at least supervised patrols.  They’re all out there.  How is this investigation going to scare them?”

“Like you said, they take patrols.  They go out and look to stop crime.  This is the first time for all of your team, except you, where we are the targets.  None of them know what it’s like to be hunted.  None of your training scenarios have come close to a life and death, real-world situation.  You’ve done a good job in training them so far, but it has all been training.  You know that the consequences are much higher in the real world.  You need to be able to explain that to them.  You need to try to ease them into the understanding that they might not have come home from your training hike.  You can do that.”

Damian thought hard about what Bruce said.  For all his time spent training the kids over the last year, it had all just been training.  This was real.  Damian took a deep breath, “What do you want me to tell them?”

Bruce regarded his son, catching the hint of nerves in his voice, “You have a way with your team.  They relate to you, and no matter how nervous you might be about this, you’re doing right by them.  Tonight, I want you to continue to do that.  Tell them what really happened on the training hike.  You can show them the thermal recording, if you think it will help.  Talk to them about Titans Tower being attacked, since Beast Boy already knows about it.  Tell them that there are groups that might be targeting heroes.”

Damian cocked his head, “Wait.  There _might_ be groups?  We _know_ there are groups.  Just because we don’t know which one we should be targeting yet doesn’t mean I should be lying to them.”

“You’re not lying to them,” Bruce said, “We don’t actually know if this is one of these groups, the United Nations, a combination of both, or something we haven’t thought of yet.”

Damian thought for a second, “Should I mention the groups at all, if all we know is that there might possibly be something out to get us?  I might as well tell them that it’s the boogeyman for all we know for sure.”

Bruce nodded, “We don’t have to know anything for sure at this point.  That’s why we’re holding these meetings.  We are looking for a consensus of ideas.  If we end up looking at the boogeyman for this, I’ll let you know.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Do you want a consensus of ideas from the kids, too?”

Bruce shrugged, “Might as well.  You’ll probably be done before us, so when your group is done, you can run the kids through some training exercises or something.  Something to keep them busy while also keeping them in the cave.  They’re all probably coming in uniform, so they can’t go upstairs dressed like that.”

 Damian looked a bit nervous as he asked, “If they’re all coming in uniform, shouldn’t I put on a mask or something?  My Robin tunic, maybe?”

Bruce patted Damian’s hand, “Will that make this easier for you?”

Damian shrugged, “It might.”

Bruce nodded as he rose and pushed Damian towards the locker room.  His brothers, now fully dressed as Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin, stopped their final preparations to watch as Damian was wheeled into the room.

Damian felt their stares follow him across the room and said, “What?  This is an official meeting.  It requires a uniform.”

Nightwing walked over as Damian pulled off his shirt.  He gripped Damian’s scarred shoulder and asked, “Are you ready for this?”

Damian looked up and nodded, but the look in his eyes suggested otherwise.  _He needs this,_ Nightwing thought. _If putting a mask and shirt on makes him able to handle this situation, then I’m all for it._

“Okay, Little Brother.  You got this.”

Damian slipped into the top half of his Robin uniform, and as his head passed through the neck hole, he felt his mood settling.  His conflicted look evened out and his nerves and insecurities took a back seat in his mind.  Damian took the mask from his Father and affixed it over his eyes.  The standing men stared in appreciation as Robin’s normal smirk settled on Damian’s features.  Robin looked up at his Father and nodded as he wheeled himself out of the locker room.

“Clothes make the man, huh Bruce,” Nightwing asked.

Bruce just shrugged as he settled his cowl over his head.

Batman and Nightwing walked back into the cave in time to see Robin stand and hop over to the computer chair.  Batman growled out, “Do not let that cast touch the ground, Robin.”

Robin’s head snapped over to his Father as he settled his foot in his wheelchair, “I’ll do my best, Father.”

“Do not stand during your meeting.  Alfred will be around if you need anything.  I know you think better when you pace, but you can’t do that right now.”

Robin held his sigh, “I know, Batman.  Is he going to be Agent A, or is he going to be Alfred?”

“I shall remain myself, Master Robin,” Alfred said, approaching the computer.

Robin nodded, “Okay.  You can glare at me whenever I try to stand up.  I assure you, it will happen at least once.”

Alfred gave a bemused smile as he walked off to dust the cave lab equipment.

Batman spoke as the Reds approached the computer, “Do you need anything else before we go?”

Robin nodded, “Yes, five chairs.  If you all bring them over, then Alfred won’t have to do it.  If the chairs are set up before the kids get here, they will be less likely to look in places you probably don’t want them going.”

Batman turned to his older sons, “You heard him.  Chairs, quickly.”

Chairs were wheeled over from various parts of the cave and set up surrounding the computer.  Batman looked around before saying, “Okay, you know what to do.  We shouldn’t be too long; we have to patrol after the meeting.  Ready, Red Robin?”

Red Robin took a deep breath, “As ready as I’m going to get, I guess.”

Nightwing wrapped an arm around Red’s shoulder and squeezed gently, “Let’s go, Little Bird.  You can amaze us with your studious attention to detail.”

Batman and his elder sidekicks took the Zeta Tube to the Watchtower.  Robin began reviewing notes for his briefing, but only had a couple minutes to himself before the Zeta Tube announced the arrival of Lian.

The young archer took a couple hesitant steps into the cave before stopping and calling out, “Hello?”

From very close behind the young girl, Alfred said, “Hello, Miss Speedy.”

Speedy gasped and spun sharply as the unexpected voice startled her.  She regarded the older man and asked, “You’re Alfred, right?”

Alfred smiled and inclined his head slightly, “I am.  I’m sorry to have startled you.”

“It’s okay.  I should have expected something, coming here.  Where is everybody else?”

“You are the first to arrive,” Alfred said, “Master Robin is at the computer.”

Alfred walked away, and the girl walked over to the group of chairs.  She hesitated, stopping before she got to the circle.  _It’s just Damian…I mean, Robin.  Why am I nervous?  Maybe it’s because I don’t think I’ve ever been alone with him before._

“Hello, Speedy,” Robin said warmly, turning his chair to see the girl, “Please, sit down.”

Speedy snorted a laugh as she saw, what was at best, a half-Robin.

Robin rolled his eyes under his mask, “It’s easier to get shorts on over the cast.  Any other questions?”

Speedy shook her head, “No.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen your legs before.  I just…wasn’t expecting that.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Robin said.

Speedy smiled, “You’re like a Superhero mullet; business up top, party down below.”

Robin had a hard time keeping the smile off of his face at that comment, and decided it would be for the best if he let it show.  “Hey, I’m glad you came early tonight.  I’ve been wanting to speak with you.”

“About what,” Speedy asked, suddenly nervous.

“About the team.  You and I are the only non-meta members of the team.  I want your opinion on how you see things going.  Are we focusing too much on certain things?  Not focusing enough on things?  Is there enough going on to keep you interested?”

Speedy released the breath she had been holding, “Oh.  I thought for a second that you were going to kick me off the team.  I’m definitely interested in what’s going on.  Dad has kinda limited my training to archery and target practice.  I only really get the ‘hero’ stuff at our trainings.  Um, like you said on the trip, I think we need more of the foundation stuff.  First aid, dealing with law enforcement, de-escalation tactics, that kind of stuff.”

Robin nodded, making a mental note to speak with Batman about the curriculum, “And, how about the mix of meta to non-meta activities?”

Speedy shrugged, “There’s more of them than us, but to be honest, I think you focus on them a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Robin said, looking down, “I want to focus on the group as a whole, but sometimes it feels like I have to hand-hold Superboy and Mercury on every single step.”

“I noticed that, too,” Speedy said, “They don’t focus as much as the rest of the team does.  You said you started training when you were much younger than them.  How did you learn to focus?”

Robin cringed, not really sure he liked where this conversation was going.  “No.  I won’t do that to them.  They are acting like children, which is exactly what they should be doing at their ages.  They can focus a little more, and take training a little more seriously, but they will not be taught the same way I was.”

“How was that,” Speedy asked.

“If I didn’t focus, or didn’t perform well enough in training, I was beaten.”

Speedy gasped, “Batman beat you?”

Robin looked up, shocked, “No, Batman never laid a hand on me.  He wasn’t responsible for my training.  He didn’t even know I existed until a few years ago.  No, my mother took care of my beatings.  That’s why I live here now.”

Speedy looked uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had taken, “Sorry I asked.”

Robin took a deep breath, “I don’t want to resort to those tactics with my team, that’s why I’m asking for your opinions.  Whether I ask or not, I want you to always feel free to give me your opinions.  Believe it or not, I’m not actually the team leader.  We are a group under the Justice League.  If we’re ever put into the field, not like our hike last weekend, but a real mission, we will be under someone else’s leadership.  I say that to point out that we are all supposed to be equal here, and your thoughts and opinions are just as valid as mine.”

The Zeta Tube announced the arrival of Beast Boy as Speedy said, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The rest of the team arrived and gathered around the computer.  Robin looked around at his team before saying, “Everyone ready?  Okay, let’s get this over with.  You are all here tonight so we can go over what the League has found so far in the investigation into our attack.  The Justice League is on the Watchtower right now having this same meeting.  No one could give me a good reason as to why we are here, instead of in their meeting.  First, I should start with our training mission.”

Mercury interrupted, “Wait, did you say attack?”

Robin nodded, “Yes, I did.  I’ll get to that in a minute.  First, there was more going on with our training hike than you all were told.  Superman and Flash didn’t just show up for no reason.  They were waiting at that clearing to observe us.  That wasn’t a random clearing in the woods that we happened to stumble upon.  Our entire route was planned, from the drop zone to the pick-up zone.  I adjusted our course based on predetermined landmarks along the way.”

Impulse shook her head, “What does that have to do with Dad and Superman waiting for us?”

“That was supposed to be a safety measure.  If everything had gone right, none of you would have ever known they were there.”  Robin’s face dropped to stare at the ground, “Unfortunately, nothing went right, and that’s my fault.”

“How can you say that,” Superboy asked, concerned at Robin’s tone.

Robin looked up again, “I didn’t adequately prepare you for what the League was asking of us.  Normal parachute training is supposed to take a week before you are put in the position of actually jumping out of a plane.  I only trained you in the bare bones basics, barely covering what would only be the first day of standard parachute training.  Yes, it was a surprise wind gust that hit us, but with proper training it would have only been a minor annoyance, not a nearly fatal event.”  Robin sighed, “I didn’t teach you what you needed to know, and it could have cost all of us our lives.”

Robin stopped talking and met the concerned gazes of his team.  He broke the uncomfortable tension by saying, “You should know that I have asked Batman to find another instructor for this group.”

A shocked gasp filled the cave.  Mercury asked, “Why would you do that?”

Robin shook his head, “Weren’t you listening?  I almost got you killed.  I refuse to have any more bodies on my conscience.  I will not be responsible for more deaths.”

Beast Boy spoke up, “Dude, no.  You can’t leave us.  Sure, we didn’t know all we needed to know, but have you considered that we all are alive because of you?  Not one of the rest of us could have walked us out of the woods last weekend, just like none of us could have kept us all alive during the war last year.”

Robin closed his eyes under his mask, “The League could have found someone else to handle both of those jobs better than I have.”

Impulse spoke up, “But they didn’t.  They found you.”

“They assigned me to the Mountain during the war to keep me out of the way, not because they thought I might have some special aptitude for what happened.”

“They never would have assigned you if they didn’t think you could handle it,” Impulse said.  “You’re going to say this is stupid, but we aren’t doing this without you.  If you quit, we all quit.”

Robin eyed the redhead, “That’s stupid.”

“See,” she said with a smile.

“Stupid, but true,” Mercury said.

“Enough of this,” Superboy stated authoritatively, “You’re not quitting.  We won’t let you.  Now, tell us about the training mission.”

Robin stared at Superboy for a second before asking, “Do you all feel this way?”  Five heads nodded an affirmative.  Robin sighed, “Very well, let’s get back to the mission.  The League had a satellite overhead, tracking our progress.”  Robin pushed a couple buttons on the computer, “This is what our landing looked like.”

The team watched as they were blown off course into near disaster.  Before the kids could comment, Robin switched views, “This is what our landing looked like in thermal imaging.”

Again, they watched the footage, and Robin asked, “Notice anything different?  And, don’t say the colors.”

“Yeah,” Beast Boy said, “What was that at the top of the screen?”

Robin smiled and froze the image, “Very good.  That is a group of people.  Keep watching.”

Robin played several more minutes of the recording before Speedy asked incredulously, “They were following us?”

_Meanwhile…_

Red Robin turned to Arsenal and nodded, “Yes.  This group followed the kids for roughly six hours.  Let me tell you, Robin was not happy that he wasn’t able to detect their tail.”

Flash asked, “How unhappy can he be, for not detecting a threat that didn’t want to be detected, and went out of their way to stay hidden?”

Batman spoke up to answer the question, “Robin has asked to be replaced as the team leader.  He feels that, if he wasn’t able to uncover this threat, he is unable to keep your kids safe.”

Superman’s jaw dropped in shock, “Are you considering this?”

Batman shook his head, “No.  Robin’s sense of self-worth and self-esteem are tied to his ability to help out and be seen as useful.  He’s laid up right now, so he has more time to think about this.  In a week or two, the cast will come off, he’ll get back into his normal routine, and he’ll realize he doesn’t want to quit after all.  We’re going to wait him out.”

Nightwing nudged Batman with a smile on his face, “Look at you, finally starting to interpret your son’s moods.”

Batman rolled his eyes under his cowl, “If we can get this over with?”

Flash leaned forward, “How were they able to stay hidden?”

Red Robin took over the briefing again, “They used photo-reflective suits.”

“How can you know that,” Green Arrow asked.

Red Robin tapped a couple keys and brought up a picture of Titans Tower on fire, “Because we are pretty sure the people who attacked the training group are the same ones responsible for this.”

Cyborg started in shock, “It wasn’t an accident?”

“We sent this to you, Cyborg,” Red Robin said, confused at his friend’s reaction.

Cyborg shook his head, “Tower computers are still down.  I barely got the notification of tonight’s meeting.”

Red Robin nodded, “Then you haven’t seen this.”

Red Robin brought up the thermal image from the tower’s generator room.  They watched the bomb being planted, and Red stopped the playback just before the explosion.  “Wanna see something trippy,” Red Robin asked.

Before anyone answered, Red Robin played the same film loop in normal imaging.  The Justice League, Earth’s bravest defenders, gasped in shock as the bomb appeared out of thin air, to float behind the generator and explode.

Superman shook his head, “Wow.”

Batman took a breath, “That’s how we confirmed the photo-reflective suit theory.”

“Where did they go after the explosion,” Cyborg asked.

“Blended in with the crowd and disappeared,” Red Robin said.  “Both Robin and I tried to track them on the thermal imaging from the satellite, but it was impossible once the building was on fire.”

“These people are good,” Arsenal said, “Who are they?”

“We don’t know yet,” Red Robin grumbled.

_Meanwhile…_

“It’s gotta be a super villain, right?  Which one is it?”

Robin sighed at Beast Boy’s question, “If only it were that easy.  No, our research is showing this to be possibly any number of highly organized resistance groups.”

“Resistance groups,” Superboy asked, confused.

“Yes.”

“What are they resisting,” Mercury asked.

Robin was glad his team couldn’t see the uncertain look in his eyes, “Us.  Heroes.  Just because we’re the ‘good guys’ doesn’t mean everyone likes us.”

“What did we do to them,” Impulse asked.

“ _We_ didn’t do anything,” Robin said, “They are most likely after the Justice League.  Batman believes that whoever this is most likely didn’t know about us until they were tracking us through the woods.  I don’t want to scare all of you, but there are groups out there that want heroes dead.  Whether they are groups of villains banding together to work against us, or regular people who don’t think we should be trying to be heroes when they can’t, these groups are out there.  They are organized, and they are spread all over the world.”

Robin paused to let the news sink in.  Several minutes passed before Mercury spoke up, a little hesitation in his voice, “What do they want?”

Robin sighed as an edge entered his voice, “If we could narrow down the list of potentials to one specific group, then I could answer that question.  Right now, we still have too many questions and not enough answers.”

Impulse looked confused, “Why did they attack us, if you don’t think we are the actual target?”

“We don’t know for sure that we aren’t the actual target,” Robin replied, “They came ready to attack the Justice League; we were just in the way.”

Robin took a breath, “Even if we aren’t the target, that is no reason to let our guards down.  These people have proven that they can move invisibly and remain undetected and have the ability to incapacitate even the most powerful members of the Justice League.  We need to remain vigilant until this threat is resolved.  We need to stay on our toes.”

“Why,” Speedy asked.

“How do you hurt the Justice League the most,” Robin asked in return.  No one answered the question, but Robin could tell that the kids were all thinking the same, right answer.

Robin looked around at his group and didn’t like the looks that were being sent his way.  He let go of a breath before saying, “Why don’t we take a break for a few minutes and hit this problem again once we’ve had a chance to clear our heads.”

Alfred spoke up from the back of the group, where he was standing with a tray of refreshments.  “That is a good idea, Master Robin.  Is anyone hungry?”

_Meanwhile…_

“You think they used the kids to get to us,” Superman asked.

Batman shook his head, “I think they were a target of opportunity.  This group has our attention; now, if only we knew what they wanted it for.”

Red Robin pointed back at the screen, showing his list of dark web superhero hate groups, “Maybe we can narrow down the groups a bit.  That might help answer some of our questions.”

“Good idea,” Superman said, “Who wants to start?  Give me your impressions of what we know so far.”

Green Arrow spoke up, “I’m leaning towards those Asian Eco-Terrorists.  The have the clearest expressed focus.”

Arsenal nodded and said, “They are also the newest group.  They are probably looking to prove themselves.  Make a name for themselves by hitting us where it hurts.”

Nightwing said, “That first group, Anti-Hero, seems like they would have a connection to the U. N.  Their site makes several mentions of their ‘high-ranked, highly-placed members’.”

Flash nodded in agreement, “Yeah.  Are we going to confront that little issue?  The League has always had good relations with the United Nations.”

“Not always,” Wonder Woman said, “but we’re better now than we were.”

“And the third group,” Martian Manhunter asked, “A good portion of our major enemies maintain a presence there.  These attacks exploited personal weaknesses, things our closest enemies would know about.”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Batman growled.  “Does anyone have anything useful to offer?”

Red Robin, who had wandered away from the screen to sit next to Nightwing, raised a hand, “I don’t know how useful it actually is, but I think we are focusing on the wrong part of the problem.”

“What do you mean,” Superman asked.

Red Robin leaned forward, “We’re looking at the ‘who’ exclusively.  I think we really need to be looking at the ‘what’ and ‘how’.”

Red Hood nudged Red Robin from behind, “Try again, in English, Restaurant.”

Red Robin rolled his eyes in annoyance, but had the attention of the entire room, “We’re focusing on the people who carried out the attacks and ignoring how the attacks were carried out.”

Batman thought for a second, “We shouldn’t focus on who attacked the kids, but how they were attacked?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“Exactly,” Red Robin said, nodding, “These attackers had to get close to the kids to be able to attack them.  To do that, they employed suits that rendered them invisible to anyone not capable of seeing into the infrared spectrum.  Those suits have to be very specialized pieces of tech.  There can’t be too many people in the world making them, and even fewer who can afford them.  Fewer manufacturers mean smaller client lists.”

Cyborg smiled, “When I get the Tower computers back online, I’ll look into that.”

“So will Red Robin,” Batman said, volunteering his son for the extra work.

Superman sighed, “Wonder Woman and I will take a look into the United Nations connection.”

Nightwing nodded and said, “Make contact with Oracle.  She’s been looking into where the breaches came from in the actual U.N. building.  She might have been able to narrow it down to the actual infiltrators by now.”

Superman gave a small smirk, “We’ll give her a call.  Thanks for the tip.”

Batman looked around, as it sounded like the meeting was about to come to a close, “Keep your eyes open out there.  If you have thermal detectors, use them.  This has gone on long enough.”

_Meanwhile…_

Superboy sighed, “I’m sorry, I just don’t see how we can solve this.”

Robin held his own sigh, but gave a small nod, “We aren’t here to solve this.  This is just an update, to let you all know what happened to us.”

Impulse looked uncomfortable, “But, shouldn’t we be _trying_ to solve this?”

Robin thought for a second, “It’s not our place.  That’s what the Justice League is for.  That doesn’t mean we can’t help them, though.  Think about what we’ve talked about tonight, and try to remember anything out of the ordinary from the training mission.  Anything, no matter how small, might be important.”

“Still,” Beast Boy spoke up, “If part of your plan tonight was to make us less scared of the situation, I don’t think you succeeded.”

Robin tried to meet Beast Boy’s eyes through his mask, “I don’t feel any better about any of this than you do.  I don’t like being this clueless about a major case.  The less you know, the more danger you’re in.  That’s why the League wanted us to go over what we know so far, so you all would be prepared.  Just use this as a warning to stay on guard.  Right now, the best thing we can do is keep our heads down.  We don’t know who, what, or where these guys are, so don’t go out of your way to make yourselves targets.  That means don’t go out if you don’t have to, limit your internet and social media presences as much as possible, and be aware of your surroundings.  Stay alert for anything out of the ordinary.  Never assume you know something.  Check it out if there is even a hint of a possibility that it might not be what it seems.”

Robin looked down for a second before looking up again, “I would also like to ask that all of you call me and report in every so often.  I want to know that you’re safe.”

Impulse and Speedy looked at each other, wondering if safety was the only reason Robin was asking the team to call him, “Only if you promise that you aren’t going to quit.”

Robin cracked a small smile, “I promise.”

“Then, we’ll call,” Speedy said, “All of us.”

The Zeta Tube announced the arrival of most of the Justice League.  Robin looked over at the approaching group of adults before saying, “Okay, that’s it for tonight.  I hope you all will think about what we discussed.  If you come up with any ideas about our current situation, talk to your parents and let them know what you’re thinking.  There are no bad ideas right now, and talking to your parents might help with some of the nerves we all are feeling over this situation.”  Robin wouldn’t realize until later that he had just admitted to being scared of their current situation to his whole team, Alfred, and the bulk of the Justice League, who could hear what he was saying, thanks to the cave’s excellent acoustics.  “Beast Boy, if anything occurs to you, either tell Cyborg or call me.”

The team left Batman and Robin at the computer.  Once they were alone, Batman picked Robin up and settled him in his wheelchair, so he could sit in the computer chair.  Batman removed his cowl and gauntlets before peeling the mask gently from his son’s face.

“How did it go, kiddo?”

Damian sighed, “I don’t know, Father.  I think all I managed to do was scare my team even more than they were already scared.”

Alfred walked by, wiping down the computer console with a dust rag, “I think you handled the event quite well, Master Damian.”

Damian glanced up at Alfred before saying, “We didn’t come up with any new ideas.  The kids were just as clueless about anything happening during the trip as I was.”

Bruce shook his head, “You weren’t supposed to come up with new ideas.  You were just supposed to inform your team of what was happening.”

“Well,” Damian sighed, “I did that.  I also warned them to be on their guard.”

Bruce nodded, “Good.  Why don’t you go up to bed?  You have an early appointment tomorrow.”

Damian looked up as Bruce pulled his gauntlets back on.  He had forgotten that his Father planned to still make a patrol tonight.  “Perhaps you should go to bed, as well, Father.  You are still taking me to my doctor’s appointment, are you not?”

Tim, Dick, and Jason approached the computer.  Dick spoke up, seeing the conflicted looks on Father’s and Son’s faces.  “We’ll take the patrol tonight, Bruce.  You know Leslie will give you _that look_ if you both show up yawning.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “The appointment is at nine.  It doesn’t matter how much sleep either of us get, we’ll still be tired.  It’s the Wayne curse.  We’re night owls.”

“Go to bed, Old Man,” Jason said with a smirk, “We got this.”

Bruce met each of his son’s eyes before relenting with a sigh, “Okay.  Be careful out there.”

The older boys left the cave quickly as Bruce wheeled Damian to the locker room to change for bed.  After the Batmobile roared out of the cave, Damian asked softly, “Um, do you think you could sit with me for a while?”

Bruce looked down at his son before turning the wheelchair and taking a knee, “I think that is a good idea.”

The ends of Damian’s lips crept up incrementally as he was pulled in by the man for a warm hug.

 

**A/N:  I want to apologize for this chapter.  It’s not really my strongest work, and the space between the last chapter and this one was way too long for this level of quality.  My standard excuse of being extremely busy at the office is in play again.  I barely have time to use the restroom during the day anymore, with how busy we are.  I guess it’s job security, though.**

**I also took a vacation a couple weeks ago.  I planned on getting three chapters done on my time off, but I ended up ignoring writing completely.  Half of my vacation involved a trip to my sister’s, out of state.  The rest involved doing as little as possible, until I had to go back to work.  It was worth it, and I very much enjoyed my first vacation in six years.**

**The downside of ignoring a story in mid-chapter was that I lost all motivation and interest in this chapter.  It really felt like I was phoning in the last half.  Don’t worry, the next few chapters are going to be much better than this one.**

**So, I tried to emulate that movie trope where two groups are talking about the same thing at the same time, and where a question will be asked by a person in one group and answered by another person in the other group, even though they are not in the same room or conversation.  I’m not sure it is something that can be accomplished in print, when you can’t actually see the jump cuts, but I tried.  Sorry if it is distracting to the story.**

**Thanks for sticking with me this long.  I’ll try to get the rest of the story out as soon as possible.  I really don’t like having a month between chapters.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	8. 8

Hero Hunt

Chapter 8

 

“You okay over there?  You’re awfully quiet this morning, kiddo.”

Bruce looked over at the passenger seat of the Range Rover, where Damian sat, staring out the side window and drumming his fingers on his knee.  It was true, Damian hadn’t said a word since bidding his Father a good morning an hour earlier.

Damian sighed as he turned away from the window, “Oh, just thinking, Father.”

“About what?”

“Whether I should get my hopes up for this appointment.  I did for the last one and it didn’t work out for me.”

The ends of Bruce’s lips hitched up a couple millimeters, “It’s been three days since your last appointment.  Maybe it’s for the best if you don’t get your hopes up.  You’ve been following doctor’s orders, but these things take time.”

“I know, Father,” Damian sighed.

The car went silent again as the duo worked their way across town towards Leslie’s clinic.  Luck was not with the Wayne’s today, and they got stopped at nearly every red light between the manor and the clinic.  As it turned out, the family was glad that they arrived at the clinic twenty minutes late for Damian’s appointment.  As they were pulling into the nearly empty parking lot, two police cruisers were pulling out.

Bruce looked at the police cars and muttered, “I don’t like the look of that.”

“Neither do I, Father.  I hope nothing happened to Dr. Thompkins.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Bruce said, pulling into a parking spot.

Bruce wheeled Damian into the nearly vacant waiting room to find a harried-looking Dr. Thompkins leaning over to speak with her receptionist in hushed tones.  Bruce and Damian could still hear what the physician was saying.

“Call the rest of the appointments and cancel for today.  Try to fit them all in next week.  For those who can’t wait, call Dr. Harris’ clinic down the street and see if they can be seen there.  We’ll get these last two appointments done and close down for the weekend.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the receptionist said as she started dialing numbers.

Leslie stood up to call the only other patients back when she saw Bruce and Damian standing near the door.  “Are you sure you want to be seen here?”

Bruce was confused by the question.  Damian spoke up and said, “As long as it’s you doing the seeing.”

Leslie almost cracked a smile as she said, “Well, they were here first.  Have a seat while I see them.  Brenda will be out to take you back for your x-ray in a few minutes.”

Bruce and Damian sat in the tensely quiet waiting room, listening to the receptionist cancel appointment after appointment, until the nurse came and took Damian for his x-ray.  They were asked to wait in an exam room for Dr. Thompkins.

While waiting, Damian asked, “What do you suppose is going on, Father?”

Bruce gave a contemplative stare, “I don’t know, kiddo.  I hate to speculate wildly, but with police involvement and Leslie looking the way she did, I don’t think we can rule anything out until we talk to her.”

Damian looked up from where he was sitting in his wheelchair, “You don’t suppose a patient died, do you?”

Bruce shrugged, “That would be the most likely explanation, but like I said, I don’t want to speculate.”

Almost forty minutes after being asked to wait, Leslie trudged into the exam room and slapped the x-ray into the light box.  Bruce and Damian gave matching cringes but hid them well when Leslie turned around.

Bruce asked gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Leslie sighed as she pulled up a stool and slumped down.  Staring at the floor, Leslie said, “I’m sorry, Damian.  You were right, and I should have listened to you.”

Confused, Damian asked, “What’s going on?”

Leslie glanced up, “I should have listened to your instincts about Dr. Fong.”

“Where is he,” Bruce asked.

Leslie looked over at Bruce, who was sitting on the exam table, “Dr. Fong was taken into custody.  He’s been charged with molesting three of my teenaged patients.”

Bruce’s eyes widened and Damian gasped, “Oh no.”

Leslie nodded, “Yeah.  He was touching patients inappropriately when he would take them for x-rays.  The patients told their parents, who called a lawyer, who called the police.  He was arrested yesterday, but the police came today to collect evidence and medical records of the patients he saw.”

Damian had paled significantly, and Leslie called him on it, “What is it, honey?”

“Four,” Damian said softly.

“Four what,” Bruce asked.

Damian looked over nervously, and there was hesitation in the teen’s voice when he spoke.  “When I saw him on Tuesday, he walked into the room and grabbed my leg twice.  I nearly broke his wrist when he did that.  Then, he tried to take me into the x-ray room alone.  I wouldn’t go with him.  He touched four of your patients, not three.”

Leslie looked like she was going to cry, “Damian, I’m sorry.  God, how many of my patients did that man assault who haven’t come forward yet?”

Bruce was squeezing Damian’s shoulder tightly in support at the news.

“I knew there was something off about him,” Damian said, “I just didn’t know it was _that_.”

Bruce reached down, pulled the teen out of his wheelchair, sat Damian in his lap, and hugged him tightly.  “Why didn’t you say anything, son?”

Damian shrugged, thinking back, “I didn’t think about it at the time.  He wasn’t going to get away with anything more than he did.  I guess a touch above the knee doesn’t really register when you’ve had much, much worse done to you.”

Bruce looked up at Leslie, who looked like she was barely holding it together, “Did Dr. Fong admit to what he did?”

Leslie nodded, “Yes, he did.  He is supposed to give a full statement either today or tomorrow, then the police will let me know just how much damage control I’ll have to do.  Retiring isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“We’re there any similarities in the victims,” Bruce asked, slipping into detective mode.

Leslie sighed, “With Damian coming forward, the victims are now two boys and two girls.”

“I’m not a victim,” Damian snapped harshly.

Leslie let the remark slide, “All are mid to late teens.  I should let you know that the police took copies of medical records for every patient he saw.  You might be getting a call to give a statement.”

Damian looked nervous about the news, “Only if I can remain anonymous.  I don’t want this making the news.  Or, at least, when it does make the news, I don’t want our family mentioned.”

Leslie met Damian’s almost scared stare.  _He looks more shook up over the prospect of having to talk to the police than the fact that he was assaulted._   “Well, honey, that is one of the perks of being a minor.  The news can’t reveal your identity as a…as a witness to Dr. Fong’s indiscretions.”

Leslie had to physically stop herself from calling Damian a victim again.  Damian held her gaze for half a minute.  He had heard Leslie change directions in mid-sentence, but he appreciated the effort.

Bruce spoke up and said, “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask how he is as a doctor now.  I’ll just ask about Damian’s ankle.”

Leslie nodded, got up, and walked over to the light box.  As the light came on, Leslie turned back to Father and Son and said, “It’s looking good; much better than it has any right looking after only a week.”

Damian looked at the doctor suspiciously, “How good?  That’s what you said last time, and I still had to stay in the wheelchair.”

Dr. Thompkins smirked as she opened a cabinet and pulled out a strange looking half shoe.  “You haven’t been walking on it, I can tell.”

“I followed your orders,” Damian said evenly.

“I’m glad you did, because I’m rolling them back.”  Leslie fastened the shoe to Damian’s casted foot, “You can walk again.”

The look of joy was one that Leslie was pretty sure the teen hadn’t meant to show to the doctor.  She enjoyed Bruce’s reaction to the news, as he smirked at the teen’s reaction.

“Just walk,” she continued, “No running, jumping, swimming, or dancing.  And _absolutely_ no patrolling.  Take it easy on the stairs, too.  It might be a good idea to continue taking the elevator for a couple days.  Your leg might feel a little weak after not walking on it for a while.  It’ll get better.  Take it easy and you’ll be fine.”

Damian was still smiling as he asked, “What’s that?”

Leslie cracked her first smile of the day, “A cast shoe.  It’s not the most stylish thing around, but it will protect your cast and give you some traction when walking.  Speaking of walking, get up and try it out.”

“A-are you sure,” Damian asked hesitantly.

Leslie gave a warm smile, “Who’s the doctor here?”

Damian held his breath as he slowly slid out of Bruce’s lap.  He landed on his right foot and glanced up at Dr. Thompkins before allowing his cast to touch the cold tile floor.  He hid his shiver as his toes reacted to the temperature as they touched the floor, so Bruce and Leslie wouldn’t think he was in pain.  Damian put a little more weight on his left foot.  He felt a slight tingle, but no pain.  Hesitantly, Damian took a step, then another, continuing until he found himself in front of the light box on the other side of the exam room.

“Well,” Bruce asked.

“Where was the break,” Damian asked, staring at his x-ray.

Leslie crossed the room to stand next to Damian.  She rested one hand tenderly on Damian’s shoulder while pointing at the film with the other.  “Right there, the thin part of the bone.  If it had snapped a bit lower, you might have been looking at surgery.  You can see the discolored area; that’s where it’s healing.”

Damian nodded slowly and said softly, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Bruce appeared on Damian’s other side, “How does it feel?”

“A lot better than the last time I tried to walk on it.”

Bruce squeezed Damian’s other shoulder before looking at Leslie, “Anything else we need to know?”

Leslie shook her head, “I think you two are good.  Like I said, take it easy.  Um, I guess I should ask if you still feel comfortable being a patient here.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Damian said.

“Where else are we supposed to go,” Bruce asked.

Leslie gave a soft smile, “Then make a follow-up appointment for one week from today.  Who knows, that cast might be ready to come off by then.”

“One last thing, Doctor,” Damian said, giving a small shiver as his toes touched the ground again, “Do you have a larger size cast shoe?  My foot is hanging over the end of this one.”

Once Damian had been properly outfitted and a follow-up appointment was made, Bruce had Damian push his wheelchair out to the car.  The teen was smiling as he hopped into the passenger seat, and Bruce matched the smile as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“That went well.  Are you sure you’re okay, kiddo?”

 Damian nodded, “Yes, Father.  At least we don’t have to worry about getting to know Dr. Fong now.”

Bruce shook his head, “Why didn’t you speak up about what he did to you?”

Damian looked over seriously.  He had been thinking about that very same question since Dr. Thompkins brought it up and had come to a startling answer.  “I did.  I told both you and Dr. Thompkins what he did.  Dr. Thompkins asked why I was being rude to Dr. Fong and you told me that he couldn’t be all bad.  Can I assume that Alfred, who was standing right there the whole time, didn’t say anything about the appointment?”

Bruce’s face blanked in shock as he realized that Damian was right.  His son _had_ spoken up, but none of them, even Damian himself, had seen the actions as predatory.  “No, Alfred didn’t say anything.  I guess we don’t want to see it when it happens to someone we love.”

Damian sighed, “If Dr. Thompkins hired him, I think we all assumed he would be trustworthy.”

The car was silent for several minutes before Damian asked, “It’s over, then, right?”

“It’s over,” Bruce said firmly, “You never have to see him again.”

Damian released a relieved breath, “Good.  I’ll give a statement to the police if they call, but after that, I want this to go away.”

“Then that’s what will happen.”

The car was quiet for a while before Damian asked, “Are you going to work today?”

Bruce looked over as they sat at a red light, “I was going to take a couple conference calls from home.  Why do you ask?”

A light flush colored Damian’s cheeks, “I wanted to talk to you about something.  It’s not important.  I just thought, since we’re together, maybe we could have a little discussion.”

Bruce started driving again, and spoke with some concern in his voice, “Sounds like this is a little more important than you’re letting on.  Why do you sound so hesitant?”

Damian looked down, “Because I’m about to break a confidence, a long-held secret that could be quite important to the family.”

Bruce pulled over into a crowded Starbucks drive-thru lane, “Are you sure you should?  If this was something that was imparted to you in secret, shouldn’t it stay a secret?”

Damian turned in his seat, “It wasn’t imparted to me, just confirmed after I figured it out.  The thing is, I think you already know, and…I really want to talk to someone about this.”

“I already know,” Bruce asked in confusion.

Damian nodded, “I think so.  I mean, how could you not?  It’s been going on under your roof for twenty-three years.”

_That long,_ Bruce thought, _this must have something to do with Dick.  Do I know any secrets about Dick?  He’s always been so open, it’s hard to imagine Dick having secrets._   “Well, just in case I don’t know, why don’t you give me a hint that won’t give away the secret?”

Damian nodded, thinking for a second.  Bruce ordered a large coffee for himself and a caramel Frappuccino for Damian when they got to the speaker.  As they waited for the line to slowly work its way to the window, Bruce looked over and asked, “Well?”

Damian took a deep breath before leaning over and saying very softly, “Festival of Peril.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, and he thought _that’s not what I thought he was going to say._   “Oh.  That.”

“You _do_ know, right,” Damian pressed.

“You mean the secret identity of Mr. Quartermain?”  Damian nodded.  The right side of Bruce’s mouth rose into a smile, “Who do you think gave him the idea to write a book in the first place?”

“Wow,” Damian whispered, his eyes wide.

Bruce picked up their drinks and pulled out into traffic again, “You’re wondering how much we’re allowed to talk about?”

Damian looked straight ahead as he put pieces together in his head, “I’m wondering why he told me I’m the only one who knew, when he has to know that you know.”

Bruce’s smile grew, “I talked to him that night, you know.  The night you figured it out.  Never argue semantics with a writer, Damian.  He told you that you are the first one to figure it out.  I didn’t figure it out.  He told me, just before Festival of Peril was first published.  He never said no one else knew, just that no one else had figured it out.”

“Hmph.  I guess that isn’t so bad, then.”

Bruce eyed his son for a second, “Are you asking if I know that he bases his characters on the family?”

“…Not exactly, but how do you feel about that?”

Bruce shrugged, “I believe his representations of us have always been pretty flattering.”  Bruce then gasped, “You aren’t upset that there hasn’t been a fourth book, are you?”

“I was a little curious about that,” Damian stated.

Bruce pulled into the manor’s gravel driveway, “You know how busy Alfred is.  He has been planning something for a while, I just don’t know when he will have the time to write it.”

Damian nodded as the car pulled to a stop in the garage, “How much are we allowed to talk about?”

Bruce shrugged, “I think we can compare notes.  By ourselves, though.  I think Alfred wants your brothers to figure it out on their own.”

Bruce and Damian walked into the house and caught the genuine smile on Alfred’s face.  “Congratulations, Master Damian.  Your patience and perseverance have paid off.”

Damian gave a small, bashful smile, “Thank you, Alfred.”

Bruce checked his watch, “I’ve got to jump on a call.  I’ll see you in a bit, kiddo.”

Bruce walked off towards his study as Alfred was reaching for the now-discarded wheelchair, “Let me just get rid of that for you.  I know how much you hate it.”

Damian shook his head, “I’ll take it, Alfred.  I need to walk a little more, get used to being on my feet again.”

Alfred smiled as he followed Damian down the hall to the storage pantry.  He asked, “So, what did your Father think of Dr. Fong?”

Damian stopped short, and Alfred nearly ran him over.  “We don’t have to worry about Dr. Fong again.  He’s been arrested for molesting patients.  Do you remember when he grabbed my leg?  Apparently, he did a lot more than that to other patients.”

Alfred covered a gasp with a hand, “Dear me!  How awful.”

Damian nodded, “It’s a good thing I didn’t let him do my x-ray.  That seemed to be where he did his…work.”

_He did that right under my nose.  None of us paid attention when Master Damian got his bad feeling about the man, and it could have cost us dearly._   “Are you okay, young sir?”

Damian looked down, “I didn’t view it as an attack either, Alfred.  I’m okay.  The police might be calling for a statement.  I told Dr. Thompkins and Father that I would talk to them if they call.”

“Very good, sir.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

Damian looked up craftily, “Have you finished any more of The Cat Burglar’s Lament?”

“There might be something ready for proofreading soon,” Alfred said lightly.

“Why didn’t you tell Father that you started writing your new book?”

Alfred looked down at the teen, “Because he would have wanted to read it.  I never tell him I’m writing a new book until it is ready to be submitted to my publisher.”

Damian sighed roughly, “I really want to talk about your books, but I also want to spend time with Father today.”

Alfred asked, “What is stopping you from spending time with your Father, other than his work calls?”

Damian looked acutely nervous, “I don’t know how much I’m allowed to tell him.  I promised you my silence, remember?”

Alfred nodded, “That you did.  I would think there would be more than enough to talk about with my currently printed works.”

Damian nodded, his look still conflicted, “Yes, we could talk for days on what you’ve put out, but within five minutes of discussing your works in the car, Father asked if I felt bad about there not being a fourth book.  Having read a chunk of this non-existent work, I only feel bad that I haven’t read the rest of it.  Of course, I can’t tell Father that.”

“No.  No, you can’t,” Alfred said, barely hiding his amusement.

“So, you see my dilemma,” Damian stated.

“Yes, it is quite a conundrum.”

The were silent as Damian followed Alfred into the kitchen.  Damian settled on a stool around the kitchen island while Alfred brewed a pot of coffee.

“By the way,” Damian said, “your books have caused me another problem.”

“What’s that, young sir?”

Damian looked up, “The autographed copies you signed for Robin.”  Alfred just stared impassively as Damian continued, “Well, she swore on everything she believes in that, if I don’t tell her the identity of Chester Quartermain and how I got autographed copies of your books, I’ll never see the inside of her bedroom again.”

Alfred released a sigh, “I suppose that is my fault for signing the books in the first place.  You may inform Miss Robin that the author’s identity will be made known to her in person, the next time she comes for a visit.  It will not be revealed before then, and the same rules of confidentiality will apply to her.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Damian said in a relieved tone.  “You know she’ll jump on a plane now.”

Alfred gave a small smirk, “I have no doubt.  As for your Father, you may make him jealous, assuming that it will go no further than the two of you.”

Damian’s smile grew, “Deal.”

Damian followed Alfred into Bruce’s study.  Bruce looked up at the tray of coffee and snacks being set quietly on his desk as Damian came limping into the room, several steps behind the butler.  He looked back at his speakerphone and said, “What’s the deal with the new government contract?  Dick, you said you had a report for us, why don’t you go ahead and give it now?”

Damian cocked his head and mouthed, “Board meeting?”

Bruce smiled and nodded as Damian sat down on the other side of the desk from Bruce and Alfred silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

Dick’s voice drifted out of the speaker, “Okay, everyone, this one is big.  Wayne Enterprises Aeronautical R&D has been approached by the government, our government to be exact, to look into the feasibility of creating hardened electronics for military aircraft.”

Lucius Fox spoke up, “What does that mean, hardened electronics?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Dick said, “because I had to ask what they were looking for, too.  All I was told was that it is a defense mechanism against various forms of attack.  It sounds, to me, like they want hacker-proof components that can continue working with heavy magnetic interference.”

“Like an anti-EMP,” Damian asked before slapping his hands over his mouth.  His eyes widened in embarrassment as Bruce shot him a look over the desk.

“What was that,” a board member asked.

Bruce was about to cover for his son when Tim spoke up, “Sorry, I should have been closer to the phone.  I asked if they were looking for anti-EMP electronics.”

“What does that mean,” Lucius asked.  Bruce could hear the mirth in his CFO’s voice.  Lucius knew it wasn’t Tim who had spoken.

Tim was shaking his head as he spoke, “It’s like in the movies.  If anyone has seen Goldeneye, the James Bond movie, they made a helicopter that could keep flying during an electromagnetic pulse.  Magnets have a big impact on computers.  Hardened electronics, theoretically, are impervious to that.”

Dick was nodding and trying not to laugh, and he wasn’t talking to Tim when he said, “From what I’ve read of the proposal, it sounds like that is exactly what they’re looking for, Little Brother.”

Bruce was still shaking his head at a deeply blushing Damian as he asked, “Is this a feasibility study or a request for proposal?”

“Feasibility study, at this point,” Dick said.

“James,” Bruce asked the head of Wayne Enterprises Aeronautical Division, “They specifically asked for the Aeronautical Division.  What do you think?”

“We’re open for proposals right now,” the man said, “We’ll need some help from Tech, though.”

“Just let us know what you need,” said Margaret, the head of Wayne Tech.

“Any objections,” Bruce asked.  When no one said anything, Bruce said, “Okay.  Make the deal, Dick.  James, Margaret, he’ll forward the specs as soon as everything is in place.  Any other new business?”  Again, silence.  “Keep up the good work, everyone.”

A flurry of beeps signified department heads dropping off the call.  Bruce was watching the screen on his laptop, waiting for the last one to drop off before he could talk to his sons.

Lucius was watching for the same thing, and when it was just them, he said, “Very insightful question…Tim.”

Tim sighed, “Thank you, Lucius.”

Lucius chuckled and revealed his knowledge of events, “How’s the leg, Damian?”

Bruce motioned to the phone, and his youngest sighed before leaning forward and saying, “Better, thank you.  Dr. Thompkins said I can start walking on it again today.”

That shocked Lucius, “On a broken ankle?  Only a week after breaking it?”

“I’ve always healed fast,” Damian said, “It’s not healed yet, just enough to be able to walk on it, if I’m careful.”

“Have a good weekend, you guys,” Lucius laughed before hanging up his phone.

Damian looked down and said, “Sorry, Father.”

Bruce sighed, “While I’m happy that you’re taking an interest in the family company, can you please wait until you’re eighteen?”

“Yes, Father,” Damian said softly.

“You’re out of the chair, huh,” Dick asked over the phone.

“Finally,” Damian replied.

“We’ll have to celebrate,” Dick said, “It’s Friday night, how about we take you out dancing?”

Damian shook his head, “Nope.  Doctor’s orders.  Besides, my dance partner is four thousand miles away.”

Bruce chuckled as he said, “It actually is doctor’s orders.  She specifically said no running, jumping, swimming, or dancing.”

“Well, there goes our weekend plans,” Tim said.

“Get back to work, you two,” Bruce said.  “Dick, I want to see that contract before you send it to Tech and Aeronautical.”

“Got it, Bruce.  I’ll email it over.”

“Right.  Meeting at two-thirty.  Talk to you then.”

Bruce hung up the phone as Damian sighed and let his head drop again.  “I’m sorry, Father.  I didn’t mean to disrupt your meeting.”

“Come here, Damian,” Bruce said.

Damian cringed as he got up and dutifully limped around the desk.  Bruce grabbed Damian’s wrist, and he could feel the teen’s muscles tense, urging him to run, while his mind forced him to stay.  _Nearly five years later and he still expects to be hit when things happen.  Damn you, Talia, for what you did to my son._

Bruce gently pulled Damian forward and into his lap.  Damian sat nervously until Bruce said softly, “As far as meeting interruptions go, this one was hardly noticeable.  All of your brothers have interrupted my meetings far worse than you did.”

“But I…”

Bruce interrupted, “You asked an on-topic question; one I had been wondering about myself.  I’m not upset with you, kiddo.”

Damian released a nervous breath as Bruce wrapped his arms around his son lightly and leaned back.  Damian asked softly, “What did the others do?”

Bruce grew a warm smile, “I could go on for hours just talking about Dick’s disruptions.  Let’s see…Dick was balancing on the edge of my desk in a one-handed handstand once when he got distracted and fell.  I caught him, but didn’t mute my phone, and a quarterly earnings meeting got to listen to Dick crying.  He was still scared of falling then; it was pretty soon after his parents died.  Jason hung up on the president of the World Bank during a fairly tense negotiation.”  Bruce’s smile grew, “And Tim.  Well, Tim invented a whole new Wayne Enterprises division when he was caught talking during a meeting.  He tried to pass himself off as the Director of Video Game Creation and Development.”

Damian snorted at the explanation.  Bruce reached up and shook Damian’s shoulders gently, “So you see, an on-point question is hardly anything to feel bad about.”

Damian adjusted his position in Bruce’s lap, leaned back into his Father, and rested his casted foot on top of the desk.  “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered, nearly silently.

An hour later, during which Father and Son didn’t move, Alfred brought the Dynamic Duo their lunch.  Damian didn’t seem like he liked the idea of getting up to eat, but Bruce and Damian transitioned over to the couch to enjoy their salads.

Bruce waited until Alfred left the room before asking quietly, “Have you given any more thought to your earlier dilemma?”

Damian had to think back to figure out what Bruce was talking about.  He remembered when he saw the way Bruce was glancing at the study door.  “Oh.  I’ve been given permission to, and I quote, make you jealous.”

That piqued Bruce’s interest, “Oh?  Has Alfred made a little more progress on The Cat Burglar’s Lament than he’s let on?”

Damian was stunned at the question, “How did you know about that?”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Wait, he actually went with that title?”  Damian nodded as Bruce continued, “Well?  Go ahead, make me jealous.”

Damian smirked, “There’s so much that’s going to make you jealous.  I don’t know where to begin.”

“How about something that’s going to shock me?”

Damian thought for a second, “Well, he gave me the only autographed copies of his three published books in existence, as gifts for Robin.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Wow.  Tell her to hold on to those.  They will be worth something someday.  How about something from the new book?  What’s your character like?”

Damian didn’t know he was giving off his true, soft smile when he said, “He’s eleven, and caught up in an Oliver Twist-like theft ring, except the crimes are more high profile.”  Damian gasped, “You know, now that I think about it, the crime spree reminds me of…well, you weren’t here at the time…but our case trying to take down Dr. Daka.  It started with a theft wave of seemingly random items that were eventually used to make the final weapon.  I’ll have to ask Alfred if that is where the story is going.”

Bruce was a bit surprised at how Damian knew so much of the plot line, but instead asked, “What’s his name?”

“Ezra.  Ezra Wyatt.”

Bruce started in shock, “As in Emmanuel’s son?  His actual child?”

Damian nodded, “A child he never knew he had.  No identity on the mother yet, but Alfred has assured me that she’s dead.”

“How do you know so much about the plot,” Bruce asked.

_Time to make him really jealous._   Damian smirked, “Alfred let me read the first twenty chapters the other day.”

Bruce had to pick his jaw up off the floor before he could say, “He let you read an unfinished, unpublished work?”

“He said he wanted my opinion of his new character,” Damian said, leaning away from the outburst.

“Alfred will only let me read one of his works after he submits it to his publisher,” Bruce grumbled.  “He really does like you best.”

Bruce looked over at his son and smiled, “What’s not to like, right?”

“If you insist, Father.”

“I do,” Bruce said, leaning back.  “Tell me more.”

Damian met Bruce’s eyes, “Alfred did say that anything discussed must absolutely remain between us.”

Bruce smirked, “On pain of burnt coffee and runny eggs, no doubt.”

“Something like that,” Damian said.

“Well?  Tell me!”

Damian smiled, “It’s different than anything he’s ever written before.  I read twenty chapters in about six hours.  I couldn’t put it down.  I was so engrossed in it that Titus ate my lunch.  I didn’t even notice when Alfred left it on my bed.  The first half of the book is all told from Ezra’s perspective.  A kid trying to survive in an adult world and getting caught up in something bigger than himself.  I had to have a talk with Alfred about what was going on, because the big reveal hasn’t been written yet, but the twist of this story is incredible.”

Bruce was on the edge of his seat, “What’s the twist?”

Damian gave an evil smirk, “No, I think I’ll let you read it when it comes out.  Besides, he might change his mind when he goes to write the next part.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed in frustration, “I’ll find Alfred and make him tell me, or I’ll fire him.”

Damian shook his head, “He said he’s amassed quite a fortune from the sales of his books in an offshore account in the Caymans.  If you fire him it will only hurt us, and it will ensure that we aren’t the first ones to read the book when it’s finished.  From what I’ve read so far, it will be well worth the wait.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Compare it to his other books.”

“Blows them all out of the water,” Damian said.

“You’re just saying that because the main character is based on you,” Bruce said with a smirk.

Damian shook his head again, “Half the time I was reading, I forgot the person I was reading about was an interpretation of me.”

Bruce cocked his head to the left, “What is Emmanuel doing in all of this?”

“He wasn’t mentioned.  Neither were his extended family.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “What?  They aren’t there?”

“They’re there,” Damian said, “The reader just doesn’t find that out until sometime after what Alfred let me read.”

“Working undercover,” Bruce asked.

“Brilliantly,” Damian replied.

“You said that Ezra is Emmanuel’s son.  How do they find out?  How does Emmanuel take the news?”

Damian shook his head, “I don’t know.  That wasn’t in the part I was given to read.  I’ve been assured, though, that Emmanuel will relish having a son of his own.”

Bruce slid across the couch and threw an arm around Damian’s shoulders, “Just how it’s supposed to be.”

The questions stopped as Damian laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder and closed his eyes.  Bruce gazed at his son for several long minutes before asking softly, “Are you alright, Damian?”

Damian spoke without opening his eyes, “Why do you ask, Father?”

Bruce tried to choose his words carefully, “It’s just, you’ve been a little…clingy…the last few days.”

Damian lifted his head from Bruce’s shoulder, “Oh.  I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t…”

Bruce held on to Damian as the boy tried to get up, “I don’t mind, Damian.  It’s okay.  I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright.  Make sure nothing’s going on that you need help with.  I’m concerned about you, son, and not because I don’t trust you and think you need constant surveillance, but because you’re my son and I love you.  And Damian, it’s okay if you just want to be held.”

Damian snuggled back into Bruce’s side and wrapped an arm around his Father’s stomach, “I just want to be held, Dad.”

They sat quietly for another minute before Bruce said, “I think I know what’s coming next.”

“What?”

“Your bed is starting to feel bigger and colder lately, isn’t it?  Your room starting to seem a bit darker?”

Damian sighed, “I haven’t seen Robin since her birthday, a couple months ago.  I miss her.”

“You’ve obviously found ways to distract yourself,” Bruce said, “You haven’t been constantly asking to see her.”

Damian shook his head, “No.  I don’t want to jeopardize future visits with constant nagging, like I did before.  Let’s just say that I haven’t been taxing the water heater when I take showers lately.”

Bruce smiled at that.  “When does Robin start school again?”

Damian looked up hopefully, “Middle of August.”

“Senior year coming up, right?”

Damian nodded, “Yeah.”

Bruce looked down curiously, “When does your summer class start?”

“Monday,” Damian replied.

“What are you taking,” Bruce asked.

Damian smirked, “Criminology.  I wanted something to boost my GPA, and I figured that would be easy enough.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll talk to Mike and see if we can work something out before she goes back to school.  Any idea if she will be able to come out in October?”

Damian shook his head, “Mr. Abbey wants to wait and see what her work load is going to be like before he gives his okay for a trip during school.”

Bruce nodded, “To be honest, you should be focusing a little more on your school work, too.  Your grades are good, but you should be focusing on your major by now, shouldn’t you?  Have you even declared a major yet?”

Damian looked down, “I was thinking Engineering.”

Bruce considered the option for a second, “What would you want to do with that?”

Damian smirked up at his Father, “Drive trains.”

Bruce barked a laugh, “I think your guidance counselor led you a bit astray on that one.”

Damian gave a silent laugh, “I know.  Still, though, you’re not going to just give up your chair when I turn eighteen.  I think I can do something for R&D.”

Bruce shrugged, “That doesn’t have to be decided right now.  Take a few Engineering classes and see if you like it.  You can always change your mind later.”

“Maybe I should be looking into Electrical Engineering or Computer Science, if your earlier call is any indication of where the business is going.”

Bruce thought critically for a minute, “You know, with your art background and an engineering interest, I think you could do some design work.”

Damian looked up, “Internships are available, right?”

“When you’re sixteen.”

Bruce sighed heavily as his cellphone rang in his pocket.  He fished the device out and, seeing Wally’s name on the screen, answered the call and set the device to speakerphone.  “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Wayne.  It’s Wally,” the disembodied redhead said.

“Yes, I know.  Thank you for calling my cell phone this time.  What do you want?”

“Well, how much time do you have?”

_This doesn’t sound good,_ Bruce thought.  Checking the time in the corner of the screen, Bruce cringed, “About fifteen minutes before my next meeting.”  _If Wally hadn’t called, I probably would have missed my next call while talking with Damian._

“Well, I won’t take that long for my report,” Wally said.

“Get on with it,” Damian growled.

Wally sounded confused for a second, “Damian?  Hey, Dick told me you were up and around again.  Congratulations.”

“Your report,” Bruce said in a bored tone.

Wally gave an unseen cringe, “Right.  I checked the Kryptonite from the attack for any add-in agents.  Markers show this as having come from a batch that was consigned to the U. N. about ten years ago.”

“The U. N. again,” Damian asked.

“The one and only,” Wally said, “Also, I talked to Victor this morning, and he traced the darts back to the U. N. as well.  They were part of a project that was never fully implemented.  The U. N. wanted to arm its Peacekeepers with less-than-lethal armaments for protection details.  The arms were produced, but never deployed.”

Bruce scratched his chin, “So, the U. N. is sitting on a stockpile of these weapons.”

“Or, was,” Damian said.  “The real question is, did the U. N. give out these arms, or were they stolen?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Bruce growled.  “Clark and I have been discussing confronting the United Nations Security Council about this whole situation.  I’m going to push for it now.  There are too many instances of them coming up in this investigation without explanation.”

“That’s a good idea, Bruce,” Wally said, “I know you have to go soon, but can I ask a personal favor?”

“What is it,” Bruce asked.

“It’s really more of a question for Damian, actually.  Linda is going out of town this weekend.  She is leaving as soon as I get home from work.  I just found out that I have to work tomorrow.  Linda and I really don’t like the idea of the kids being home alone right now.  I think they are still a little scared to be alone, too.  Since you are up and around now, Damian, can you watch the kids tomorrow?”

Bruce thought for a second, “Why don’t they just come here?”

Wally considered it, but said, “I think they would feel more comfortable in their own home.  Linda and I would both like them to stay home, too.”

“Your wife is okay with me watching your kids,” Damian asked.

“She is,” Wally replied, “We both are.”

Bruce looked at Damian with a raised eyebrow.  Damian just shrugged.  Bruce said, “Okay, Wally.”

Wally sighed in relief, “Thanks, Bruce.  Damian, I’ll see you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.  And, thanks.  You’re a lifesaver.”

 

**A/N: Well, I like this chapter a lot more than I liked chapter 7.  The action will start to pick up over the next few chapters.  This is chapter 8, and my current outline has 13 chapters planned, so we are getting down to it.  I don’t know when the next chapter will be up, because the current plan for chapter 9 shows it’s going to be pretty long.  I’m stealing an episode of Young Justice for the next chapter.  I won’t tell you which one (because I don’t remember episode names) but it should be pretty obvious if you’ve seen the show.  I might end up splitting chapter 9 into two chapters, just to keep the length down, unless you all are okay with a fifteen-thousand-word chapter.**

**Let me know what you think of the story so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	9. 9

Hero Hunt

Chapter 9

 

Wally bustled around the kitchen of his Ohio home, trying to think of any last-minute preparations he needed to complete before he headed off to work.  Wally was not comfortable with the prospect of leaving the kids alone with everything going on with the case, but he needed to keep his job in order to keep a roof over his kid’s heads.

Wally waited impatiently for the coffee to perk as he thought to himself.  _I really don’t like this.  I should have taken Linda up on her offer to postpone her trip, at least until after this case is solved.  Come on, Wally, you trust Damian.  Hell, even if the kid didn’t have Dick’s seal of approval, there is no denying the positive impact he’s had on the kids.  Jai’s room has never been cleaner.  I’m just nervous about leaving the kids, and I won’t get over it until I get home from work and see that I worried for nothing.  Where the heck are the kids?  I told them Damian would be here at nine.  I asked them to be up and ready before that.  Damian will be here any minute.  Knowing the whole Wayne family, there will be no announcement of his arrival.  Hell, he’s probably already here, and just waiting for a good time to jump out and scare us._

A noise from the kitchen door distracted Wally from his thoughts.  Turning to the doorway, Wally was less than impressed with what he saw.  Jai was padding into the kitchen, his mouth open in a massive yawn, his arms stretched expansively over his head, and his body clad only in the boxer shorts he had worn to bed last night.

“Morning, Dad,” Jai yawned as he leaned heavily against the doorframe.

Wally shook his head at the way Jai’s eyes slipped closed, “Hello, Jai.  I see we aren’t following directions today.”

“Huh,” Jai asked in another yawn.

“What did we talk about last night?”

Jai just stared with half-closed eyes.  Another yawn sounded in the hall as Irey stumbled into the kitchen, stretching in much the same way her twin had a minute earlier.

Wally sighed at his daughter’s gray nightgown and said, “Not you too.”

“Morning, Daddy,” the girl yawned, “What’s up?”

Irey leaned against the other side of the door frame, and on any other morning, Wally would have found the sight endearing.  Not today, though.

“Guys, really, what did we talk about last night?”

Irey yawned again, “You’re going to work and Mom is out of town, visiting Aunt Mary.”

Wally nodded, “Right.  What else is happening today?”

“Damian is coming over while you’re at work,” Jai said, his eyes starting to stay open on their own now.

“Okay, and what did I ask you to do before he got here?”  The kitchen remained silent as Wally poured coffee into a travel mug and took a sip.  “I asked you two to be up early, so everything could be done before Damian gets here.  I have to leave exactly at nine, so I don’t have time for all of this.”

“But Dad, we are up before nine,” Jai said.

Wally looked back at the clock on the stove, which read 8:52.  Turning back with a frown, Wally said, “Last night, you both agreed to be awake, showered, dressed, breakfast completed, and rooms cleaned before nine.  So far, you two are barely managing awake.”

Irey smiled, “We’re speedsters.  We have plenty of time to get all of that done before nine.”

“Perhaps,” Wally said, “But will you get all of that done before Damian gets here?”

The twins didn’t answer, so Wally asked, “When was the last time any of the Wayne’s were late for anything?”

Jai thought hard for a second before saying, “Damian was late for training a couple times last month.”

Wally shook his head, “No, he wasn’t.  He was in with the League, going over your lesson plan.  I’m surprised he isn’t here already.”

Wally’s eyes widened as hands landed on the twin’s shoulders, and a new voice said, “Speak of the devil and he might appear.”

If Damian didn’t have hold of the twin’s shoulders, both of them would have jumped out of the shoes that they weren’t wearing.  Damian looked at the twin’s attire and said, “I see I’m a bit early.”

_How the hell did he sneak up on all of us while walking in a cast?_   Wally released a breath, “Good morning, Damian.  Thanks for coming.  I’m sorry about them.  They were supposed to be ready for the day before you got here.”

Damian shrugged, “We aren’t going anywhere.  I was going to leave plans up to them.  It’s okay if they’re just getting up.  Believe me, I would rather still be in bed, too.”

Jai gasped, his eyes widening as a thought occurred to him, “If Damian’s here, does that mean he’s going to cook for us?”

Irey matched the gasp, “Please, Damian?  You’re a better cook than Mom or Dad.”

Damian looked up at Wally, who said, “He isn’t going to do anything until you both get dressed and make sure your rooms are clean.”

Damian wasn’t surprised that the twins disappeared from the room the second he took his hands off of their shoulders.

Wally was shaking his head in exasperation, “Those two; I swear.”

A handful of seconds later, a gust of wind heralded the return of a now fully-dressed Jai, who sat at the dining table, folded his hands on top of the table nicely, and said, “Eggs, please,” with a smile.

Wally turned to stare at his son, “If I go to your room right now, I’ll find the bed made and your clothes picked up off the floor, right?”

Jai sighed dramatically as he dragged himself out of his chair and trudged off at a less-than-super pace.

Wally shook his head as he turned back to Damian, “Kids.  Am I right?”

Damian stared incredulously up at Wally, “I’m fourteen, West.  What do I know about raising kids?”

Wally smirked at the teen, “If what Dick tells me is true, you’ll get your chance to find out soon enough.”

Damian paled drastically at Wally’s remark.  “What-what does that mean?”

Wally glanced at the clock again, “Damn, I’m late.  Okay, the kids know you’re in charge.  Linda and I really don’t care what you three do today, but just stay here; in and around the house.  You have full run of the place.  If you can’t find something, just ask the kids.  It looks like you’re on the hook for three meals now, instead of just two.  I’ll probably be home late; maybe nine or ten o’clock tonight, maybe later.  Anything happens, call me.  I can be home in a matter of seconds.  I talked to Bruce again last night, and he’s okay with you spending the night if it gets too late.  Thanks again, Damian.  I really owe you for this one.”

Damian only heard half of Wally’s speech.  His mind was still reeling from Wally’s earlier remark.  “Wait!  What do you mean, I’ll find out soon?”

Wally was gone, leaving Damian in a cold sweat as he leaned heavily against the counter.  _What did he mean by that?  What did Dick tell him?  Would Dick know something that I wouldn’t?  He’s on Robin’s Facebook friends list.  Could he know something I don’t know?  We were together two months ago.  That’s long enough…but, we used protection every time.  Except…oh, no.  The accident.  This can’t be happening.  Why would she post it on Facebook before telling me?  Why would she tell Dick before telling me?  Is there anything to actually tell me?  Am I blowing a poorly-phrased comment out of proportion?  I’ve been known to do that before.  I need to get to the bottom of this, now.  I love Robin, but I’m not ready to be a father.  Please tell me Robin isn’t pregnant._

_Meanwhile…_

Irey stepped out of the bathroom, still drying her hair after her shower, and gave an evil smirk as her brother walked slowly down the hall.  “Told you Dad wouldn’t just accept you showing up dressed without asking about the rest.  Shower’s open.”

Jai walked out of his room with a towel and said, “Yeah, I know.  Might as well do it all, Damian hasn’t started cooking yet.”

Irey shook her head, “You can’t make food that good in the time you gave him, Jai.”

Jai stopped at the bathroom door, “I know.  Still, it was cool of Damian to want to come spend the day with us.”

Irey rolled her eyes, “Didn’t you pay attention to Mom yesterday?  Damian didn’t want to be here.  Dad hired him to babysit us.  Mom and Dad don’t want us home alone.”

Jai looked back at his sister, “Well, I don’t really want to be home alone right now.”

“I don’t, either,” Irey said, “I’m glad he agreed to come here today.”

Jai smirked, “He’s still got a girlfriend, Irey.”

Irey raised her arm, like she was going to hit her brother.  Jai flinched, and Irey’s smile blossomed.  “Two for flinching,” Irey crowed before punching Jai twice in the shoulder.

Jai rubbed his shoulder as he turned for the bathroom, muttering, “One of these days, I’m not going to be so nice to her.”

_Meanwhile…_

Dick gave a fake, overdramatic sob as he pulled his head out from under his pillow.  He had ignored the last three calls, and the five text messages that came before the calls.  Now, it was time to answer the phone, if only to get the persistent caller to leave him alone.

“Whaaaaaat,” Dick whined into the phone.

“What do you know that I don’t?”

_Is that…it’s too early for this._   “Damian?  Is that you?”

Dick could feel the eye roll through the phone, “Of course, it’s me.  Answer my question.”

Dick sighed, a hint of anger entering his tone, “If you called me from next door, instead of walking to my room, I’m going to…”

Damian sighed loudly, interrupting his brother, “Quit your threats, I’m not home.  I’m watching West’s kids today, remember?”

Dick rolled over and looked at the clock on his nightstand, “It’s a little early on a Saturday, don’t you think?”

“Well, you actually have to be on time to work, when you don’t own the company.  Now, what do you know that I don’t?”

“Probably a lot of things,” Dick said while stretching, “Why don’t you narrow it down to what has you so panicked this morning?”

Damian didn’t like the way Dick sounded.  It made Damian think there might actually be something going on.  “What did you talk to West about that no one told me about?”

“What,” Dick began.

Damian sounded close to a nervous breakdown to Dick, “Have you been talking to Robin behind my back?  What did she tell you?”

Dick sat up, confused, “Damian, slow down.  Start from the top.  What brought all this on?”

Damian stopped, closed his eyes, and took a breath, “I was talking to West about what needs to happen with the kids today, and I reminded him that I have no experience in raising kids.  He gave me this weird smile and said that _you_ told him I would be getting child-rearing experience soon.  What did you tell him?”

_This is going to be fun,_ Dick thought.  _I’ll teach him to wake me up this early on a weekend._   Dick asked innocently, “You mean, you don’t want anyone to know?  Gee, I wish you’d told me that earlier.”

Damian froze, his breath catching in his throat.  “Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

Dick continued like he hadn’t heard Damian, “I mean, I knew you two were keeping it quiet, but I didn’t think it would hurt anything to tell Wally.  He can keep a secret.”

“Dick,” Damian growled.

Dick’s smile grew, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  We’re all happy for the two of you.”

Damian sagged down limply into a chair at the dining room table and buried his face in his hands.  His lip was shaking as he said, “So, it’s true?  Robin really is pregnant?  Why wouldn’t she tell me?  Why would she tell you and not me?  I mean…it’s mine, right?”

Dick gasped dramatically, “You mean…she didn’t tell you?”

Damian sniffled hard and spoke in a watery voice as he wiped at his eyes, “No.”

“Oh, Damian,” Dick said sadly, trying not to laugh.

“How could this happen,” Damian growled.  “God, Father is going to kill me.  We swore to him that he would be a Father-in-law before he became a Grandfather.”  Damian sniffled deeply, “Damn.  I need to talk to Robin.”

_He’s taking this joke awfully hard.  There couldn’t possibly be a true fear behind this, could there?  Uh-oh.  With this reaction…maybe?  I think I went too far._   “Damian!  Damian, wait.  Don’t do that.”

Damian had been a second away from hanging up the phone when Dick stopped him.  “Why not,” Damian demanded.

“Because I made it all up,” Dick said quickly.

The line was silent for long enough that Dick thought Damian might have hung up.  Slowly, Damian asked, “You made _what_ up?”

Dick sighed, “It was a joke, Damian.  I have no knowledge of any potential pregnancy.  To the best of my knowledge, Robin is not pregnant.”

“Oh, thank god,” Damian said, his forehead bouncing off of the surface of the dining table.  “What the hell is wrong with you, Dick?  Why would you make that up?”

“I thought you could tell that I was joking.”  A crafty tone entered Dick’s voice as he asked, “Could it be that a pregnancy scare isn’t out of the realm of possibilities?  Are you nervous for more than Wally’s comment?  Was Mr. Careful a little negligent?”

Damian ignored the questions, “What was West talking about, then?”

Dick sighed, knowing that Damian had purposefully avoided his questions, “We were talking about how close you and Robin are, and how your eighteenth birthday will probably be celebrated with a wedding cake instead of a birthday cake.  He probably interpreted that to mean that you two are going to have kids eventually.  Why is this making you so nervous?”

Damian sighed roughly, “You made it all up?  You’re such a dick, you know that?”

Dick snickered, “All my life.”

“You know what I mean,” Damian growled dangerously.

“Why is this setting you off so much?  It was just a joke.”

Damian sighed, knowing he couldn’t evade the questions any longer, “The last time we were together, the night before I came home, the condom broke.”

Dick gasped, suddenly realizing where his joke had gone wrong.  “Oh, D.  I didn’t know.”

Damian continued, “Robin has been following up with her doctor, and we’ve been hoping that nothing happens.  She doesn’t want to be a parent yet, either.  You just scared the hell out of me, Dick.”

Dick released a breath, “I’m sorry, Damian.  I didn’t know.

“We weren’t going to tell anyone unless we absolutely had to.  We were just going to be extra careful in the future.”

Dick asked in confusion, “You weren’t telling anyone?  How was she getting to the doctor?”

Damian sighed, “She either went on her own or her sister took her.  Gina’s been in Alaska for the summer.  Robin is old enough that the doctor doesn’t have to report a possible pregnancy to her parents.  Robin has been telling her parents that she has a bladder infection.”

“And you don’t want this going any farther than us,” Dick said.

Damian shook his head, “I didn’t even want you knowing.  Now that you know, you will never say anything, ever.  I’m not even kidding right now.”

Dick nodded, “This will stay between us, Damian.  I promise.”

“Not a word, Dick!”

“I swear, Damian,” Dick answered quickly.

Damian took a deep breath, “I need to call Robin.  Talk to you later.”

Damian hung up his phone and heard just about the last thing he wanted to hear.  “So, your girlfriend is pregnant?”

Damian’s head snapped up to see Irey walking into the kitchen nervously.  “You heard all of that?”

Irey sat down at the table, across from Damian, “You were yelling at Uncle Dick.”

Damian sighed, “She is not pregnant; we just had a bit of a scare.”

Irey nodded, “Oh.  Well, that’s good.  That _is_ good, right?”

“For now,” Damian said.  “I don’t want to be a father at fourteen.  Maybe someday, but not today.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Irey?  Can you and Jai handle breakfast on your own?  I need to make another call.”

Irey nodded, reading the conflicted look on Damian’s face, “Yeah, sure.  Jai will be disappointed, though.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Sorry, but this is a little more important than a couple eggs.  I’ll see about doing something special for lunch.”

Irey nodded as they both stood.  Irey headed for the refrigerator as Damian left the kitchen and headed for the garage.  He passed Jai on the way and said, “Give me a few minutes, okay?  Irey is taking care of your breakfast.”

“Aww, man,” Jai said, heading for the kitchen.

Damian’s next call was answered blearily on the second ring, “It’s a little early, Lover.”

“I know, Beautiful,” Damian said, getting right to the point, “and I’m sorry, but this couldn’t wait.  You saw your doctor yesterday.  What did she say?”

Robin sighed, “Oh, that.  You can stop worrying, I’m not pregnant.”

Damian released the breath he had been holding, “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent,” the older teen said, “My period started yesterday, and the doctor is absolutely certain I’m not pregnant.”

Damian leaned against the wall and thought for a long second, “That’s great news, Robin, but…I think I’m a little sad at hearing it.”

Robin sniffed, “I think I am, too, Damian.  I don’t want us to be parents at our ages, but our baby would have been so loved.”

Damian sighed, “They still will be, just not yet.  You’re going to be a great mother when the time comes.”

“So will you,” Robin said, “I mean, you know what I mean.”

Damian smiled, “I know what you mean.”

The line was quiet for a second before Robin said, “I think you should tell your Dad what happened.”

Damian nearly dropped his phone in shock, “What?  No, I want to have a chance of seeing you again.”

“Still,” Robin pressed, “It’s over now.  It’s okay to tell him.”

“We promised this would be our secret.  Why are you pushing for me to tell Father?”

Damian could hear the guilt in Robin’s voice, “I told my parents yesterday.”

“Why,” Damian gasped.

“They cornered me,” Robin said, “They got a notice from the insurance with all of my visits listed and wanted to know what was wrong with me.  They were scared that something was wrong from my quick weight loss and weight gain.  I already knew I wasn’t pregnant, so I didn’t see any harm in telling them.”

Damian closed his eyes, feeling his world falling apart around him, “And your Father is going to call my Father.”

“He might have called him last night,” Robin said in a small voice.

Damian shook his head, “No, I would have been skinned alive by now if he had.”

Robin shrugged, “Maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him?”

“Alright, I’ll call him,” Damian said with a sigh.

That confused Robin, “Is he out of town?”

Damian smiled, “No, I am.  I’m watching a couple of my teammates today.”

Robin was a bit confused by Damian’s phrasing, but didn’t ask about it.  “Was this planned ahead,” Robin asked.

“Last minute,” Damian said, “I was asked about it yesterday.”

“Well, call your Dad.  Get it over with.  All he can do is ground you.”

Damian was imagining disaster scenarios, “That’s not all he can do, but I’ll call him anyway.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Robin said before hanging up.

Damian selected his Father’s speed dial contact with a shaking finger, placing the call before he lost his nerve.

“Hello, Damian.”

“Good morning, Father.”

Bruce was concerned about the waver in his son’s voice, “Is everything alright, son?”

“So far,” Damian said nervously.

Bruce heard the nerves in Damian’s tone and asked, “Are you calling to tell me something you should have told me months ago?”

Damian’s head fell with a silent sob, “Who told you?”

“Mike called me yesterday,” Bruce said evenly.

Damian cocked his head, “And you didn’t say anything?”

“Neither did you.”

Damian shook his head, “I didn’t know for sure until just a couple minutes ago.  I thought you would kill me if I even thought that word.”

“Just so we’re both clear,” Bruce said, “Why don’t you tell me the word you’re thinking of.”

Damian sighed and mumbled, “Pregnant.  She isn’t.”

“What if she had been pregnant, Damian,” Bruce asked seriously.

“Then I would have moved to Alaska to raise our child while Robin finishes school.  Neither of us want to be parents right now, but we would never take that out on a baby.”

Bruce sighed, “Did you just think of that now, or was this something you two planned?”

Damian cringed, “I, um, just thought of that now.”

“Damian,” Bruce said while sighing and shaking his head.  “I don’t understand how a scare like this is even possible when you swear up and down that you two are being safe,” Bruce said pointedly.

Damian was trying to stop his jaw from shaking, and he was very glad that they weren’t having this conversation in person.  “We _are_ being safe.  It, um, it…broke.  It was an accident, I swear.”

Bruce gasped, “Oh.  Mike didn’t tell me that part.  That’s a completely different situation.  Why didn’t you tell me, Damian?”

“I wanted there to be a chance that I would be allowed to see Robin again,” Damian said.

Bruce was quiet for a second before asking, “Do you really think I would keep you away from your kid, just because you had one as a teenager?”

Bruce ached at the watery tone he heard when Damian said, “I was so scared, I didn’t know what would happen.  We decided to keep it between us until we knew if we needed to make other plans.”

Bruce sighed, “Well, the only thing I can see that either of you did wrong was not telling us immediately.  I can understand you being scared, though.  Um, have you and Robin talked about having children?”

“We have,” Damian said, surprising Bruce, “We want them, but not at fourteen and sixteen years old.”

“And yet, if you were having one now, you would give up everything to raise it?”

Damian closed his eyes, “I would hope that wouldn’t be necessary, but yes.  My child, whenever I have one, will not have to wait until they are ten years old to meet me.”

Bruce paused for a second, “Is that a rebuke?”

“…Yes, but not one aimed at you, Father.”  Damian sighed, “Can we talk about this later, or not at all?  This is starting to depress me.”

Bruce nodded, feeling the same way, “We’ll talk when you get home tomorrow, son.”

“Tomorrow,” Damian asked.

“Yeah.  Even if Wally gets home earlier than he is thinking, why don’t you spend the night?  Have a good time with your friends.”  _God knows you probably need one right now._

Damian thought about it, “Okay.  I can try that.  See you tomorrow, Father.”

Damian walked slowly back into the house, thinking about this strange morning.  _What the hell happened over the last hour?  How did I go from normal, to maybe a father, to not a father, to grounded forever, to back to normal, in less than an hour?  God, I need a nap, and some time spent in mindless diversion.  I wish I brought a sketch book with me.  I need to clear my mind._

Damian couldn’t help noticing that his gait had slowed down, and his steps were more purposeful.  _Maybe I should sit down?  My ankle is throbbing.  No wonder Dr. Thompkins didn’t want me walking around so soon.  I think the kids will understand._

Damian was surprised to find Jai and Irey in the kitchen, washing dishes.  He leaned against the doorframe with a smirk, “What’s this?  You two, doing chores quietly, without complaining?  Am I in the right house?”

Jai turned his head as he put a bowl in the dishwasher, “We didn’t want to give you any trouble.  It sounds like you have a lot going on right now.  You don’t need to put up with us.”

Damian sat down at the dining table, touched at the gesture, “Thank you, but you’re wrong.  My problems are over now, and I definitely need something to take my mind off of things.”

Jai actually blushed as he stammered, “So, um, is all of, um…is everything…”

Irey rolled her eyes as she lightly elbowed Jai in the stomach, “What the king of tact is trying not to ask is, if you can tell us, and want to tell us, what happened?”

Damian smiled, not wanting to talk about it until just now, “Finish the dishes.  I’ll be in the living room; I need to put my foot up.  I’ll tell you when you’re done.”

The twins gasped in shock.  They had expected Damian to shut them down.  Damian got up and limped out of the kitchen as the twins’ chore speed increased.

Damian had barely made it to the couch when the twins showed up and sat down.  Jai was staring intently at Damian as he said, “Oh boy, story time.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop the small smile that worked its way onto his lips.  Jai’s attitude was exactly what Damian needed at this moment.  He propped his throbbing ankle up on the coffee table and asked, “Are you sure you’re twelve?”

“Almost thirteen,” Irey said as she reached over and slapped the back of Jai’s head.

“Well, this is definitely an adult story,” Damian said, “And, by the way, this is a private story that is not to ever be spoken of again, or shared with anyone.  Ever.”

The twins nodded and swore that Damian’s tale of woe would never leave the living room.  Damian eyed them for a second before starting in.  “Well, back in May, I went to Alaska for my girlfriend’s birthday.”

“Robin,” Jai said, nodding.

Damian flinched, “What?  Why are you…”

Jai interrupted Damian with a smile, “No, your girlfriend.  I still think it’s hilarious that she’s named Robin.”

“Oh…yeah,” Damian said, trying to recover himself.

“Why did she want to go to Alaska for her birthday,” Irey asked.

Damian shook his head, “She lives in Alaska.  Her family moved there after Robin and her sister were kidnapped and held for ransom.”

Jai and Irey’s jaws dropped at that little bit of news.

“Whoa,” Jai said.

Irey gasped, “Is that how you two met?  Did you rescue her and sweep her off her feet?”

Damian stared for a second before saying flatly, “No.  This isn’t a Disney movie, Irey.”

“Oh,” the redhead said, blushing, as Jai hid a laugh.

“As much as we want a fairy tale ending, there is no way the universe will be that kind to me.  I probably don’t deserve a happy ending.  No, we were dating for several months before she was kidnapped.  We did rescue her, though, and that is how she found out who we are.”

Jai shook his head, “Wow, Alaska.  When do you ever see her?”

Damian sighed, “We talk and text every day.  We see each other every other day over Skype, and on special occasions, like her birthday, in person.  Anyway, long story short, visit for her birthday, sex, broken condom, and the last two months of panic hoping I didn’t get her pregnant.”

The kid’s jaws dropped again.  It took a minute before Irey could ask, “Well, is she?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  She got the confirmation from her doctor yesterday.”

Irey was still confused, “So, what was all the yelling about earlier?”

Damian leaned back on the couch, “Your father said something that he heard from Dick that made it sound like he knew about the whole situation.  Robin and I weren’t telling anybody about this until we knew for sure, one way or the other.  I hadn’t heard anything, but Dick is friends with Robin on Facebook.  I didn’t know if maybe she had posted something without telling me.”

“Would she do that,” Irey asked.

“No,” Damian replied, “but I’ve been scared enough lately to believe anything.”

Jai looked confused now, “Are you saying that you aren’t Facebook friends with your own girlfriend?  That’s messed up, man.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I’m not Facebook friends with anyone.  I don’t have a Facebook account, and I will never get one.”

Jai blushed, “Oh.  So that guy who goes by ‘Boy Wonder’, I should probably block him from my friends list, right?”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Irey gave an eyeroll large enough that Damian wondered how her eyes didn’t get stuck pointing at the back of her skull.  “You weren’t supposed to tell him about that.”

Damian’s piercing gaze landed on Irey, “Explain that.”

Irey cringed, wishing she hadn’t said anything, “Gar made a dummy account.  That way we could have the whole team on our private friends list.”

“I see,” Damian said drily, trying not to lash out at the twins.  They didn’t know how much Damian hated being left out of things like this.  He would never start a Facebook account of his own, but that didn’t mean he wanted others pretending to be him behind his back.  “I think you should show me this page, Jai.”

Nervously, Jai pulled his phone from his pocket, but said, “Why don’t you finish your story first?”

Damian had to remember back to where he left off.  “Fine.  I called Dick to ask if Robin had posted anything.  Dick played a joke on me, and convinced me that she had and was pregnant.  Before I could hang up to call Robin, he told me that he was joking, and that’s why I yelled at him.  I then called Robin to get the final confirmation that she’s not pregnant.  She saw her doctor yesterday.  I then called to talk to Father about it, and found out that he already knew, and was waiting for me to tell him.”  Damian took a deep breath as his synopsis wound to a close, “So, hell of a morning, huh?”

Irey and Jai were nodding, thinking about how all that had happened in the time it took them to shower and eat breakfast this morning.

“No wonder you get up so early,” Jai said, “I think that was more than I do in a whole day.”

“Probably,” Damian said, “Now, show me what Garfield doesn’t want me to see.”

Jai nervously handed over his phone.  Unbeknownst to Damian, Jai had used the time while Damian was talking to send a warning to Garfield, saying ‘run and hide, the real found out about the fake’.  Unfortunately, he sent the message over Facebook, to the same page Damian was now looking at.

A new message came in from Garfield, asking how Damian found out.  Damian looked up and deadpanned, “Really?  You sent him a warning, then handed me the same device, displaying the same page, used to send the warning?”

Jai blushed in embarrassment as Irey shook her head in disappointment.  Damian sighed and typed a message back, reading, ‘I found out because Jai can’t keep his mouth shut’.

A quick reply read, ‘Hi, Damian.  Sorry about this…Wait, how did you get on Jai’s account?’

A small smirk crossing his lips, Damian wrote, ‘You think I’m just going to give away my secrets?’

Damian shook his head as he tossed the phone back to Jai, “Just make sure you don’t put anything personal or revealing on there.  I don’t want to be outed over a prank.”

Jai looked over at Irey, then back at Damian, “Wait, you’re not mad?”

“Despite my attempts to show the exact opposite, I do have a bit of a sense of humor.”

Irey giggled, “I didn’t believe Jon when he told us that.  Why should I believe you?”

“Because Jai’s phone is still in one piece,” Damian answered.

Jai shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so.  So, what are we doing today?”

Damian matched the shrug, “The only plans I had were not leaving the house.  Other than that, I’m open to suggestions.”

“You’re going to leave it up to us,” Jai asked, surprised.

“Your Father left me in charge,” Damian said, “but actually, I’m the guest here.  A good host would provide diversions for their guests.”

It took a second for Irey and Jai to interpret what Damian had said, and what he meant.  Once they both seemed to figure it out, Irey said, “Since he’s never been here before, why don’t you show him around the house, Jai?”

“Why don’t you,” Jai retorted.

Damian rolled his eyes, expertly hiding his smirk.

“Okay, we’ll both do it,” Irey said.  She turned to Damian and asked, “Is that okay?”

“On one condition,” Damian said, slowly rising from the couch, “and I know this will be hard for both of you, but take it slow.  Just because I’m allowed to walk around again doesn’t mean my leg is fully healed yet.”

Irey and Jai stood and looked around the living room, wondering how to make their house interesting.  The decently-sized, two-story suburban home could easily fit in the north wing of Stately Wayne Manor, with plenty of room left over and without any of the residents of the south wing of the manor knowing it was there.  With what little of Damian’s home the twins had seen, they didn’t know what would entertain their guest.

“This won’t take as long as the tour of your house that you gave Jon, but maybe it won’t completely bore you,” Jai said, a little hesitantly.

Irey spoke with a smirk, “We don’t have nearly as many skeletons in our closets as Jon said you have in yours.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “In my defense, that was just a couple weeks before Halloween, and Dick was going out of his way to try to scare Jon.”  Damian thought for a second before asking quietly, “Did he, um, talk a lot about that day?”

Jai smiled, “Are you kidding?  He wouldn’t _stop_ talking about it.  He still feels left out sometimes, being the youngest on the team.”

“You made him feel pretty special when you wanted to spend time with him,” Irey said.

Damian stopped before they re-entered the kitchen, and thought _Jon still feels left out?_   “Wait, do you two ever feel left out of the group?”  Jai and Irey both looked down and nodded.  “Why,” Damian asked gently.

The twins were surprised at the tone of voice.  Irey said, “Well, I was the only girl for a while.  Lian doesn’t come to all of the trainings, so it’s just, kinda, lonely sometimes.”

“Jai,” Damian asked.

Jai continued to stare at the floor, “I-I’m…I’m not good at the things you’re teaching us.  I’m not strong, like you and Jon.  It takes me longer to understand things than everyone else in the group.  I’m fast, but Irey is faster.  I feel like I’m holding the group back.”

Damian shook his head, “Wow.  Okay.  It doesn’t matter how my leg is feeling next Friday, we’re having a team meeting.  We have a lot to discuss.”

Jai and Irey looked nervous.  Irey asked, “You’re going to lecture the whole team just because we feel uncomfortable sometimes?”

Jai said, “It’s not their fault.  You don’t have to do that.”

Damian smiled, “Yes, I do, and not just for you.  I’ve spoken to the entire team about this now.  These feelings need to be discussed amongst all of us, so that they can be eliminated once and for all.  How can an entire team come together to do the things we do, yet all feel like less than a team?”

“I don’t get it,” the twins said at the same time.

Damian nodded, “You just said you feel like you’re slowing the team down, Jai.  Irey, you said you are uncomfortable being the only girl sometimes.  Jon feels left out because he’s the youngest.  I spoke with Lian earlier this week, and she said that she doesn’t get a lot out of the team due to all the time spent working on how to use powers that she doesn’t have.  Garfield lives on the other side of the country, and is the only person on the team without an active superhero as a parent, so he feels left out.”

“Do you feel left out,” Irey asked softly.

“Of course I do,” Damian said, “I’m only seven months older than Garfield, yet I’ve been put in a position to have to teach you all how to do things that I barely know myself.  It creates distance between us, being your teacher.”

“Didn’t you want to do this,” Jai asked.

“Eventually,” Damian said, looking down, “but it took me two months to make my decision.”  Damian turned away, “I don’t fit in either group.  The League views me as a minor assistant, watching you guys while they do their thing.  You guys view me as part of them because I’ve been placed in a position of miniscule authority.  I don’t know how to be your friend and your teacher at the same time.”

Irey and Jai met each other’s eyes behind Damian’s back.  They hadn’t known any of this was going on.

“I can see why you want to have the meeting,” Irey said.

Damian nodded, “Yeah.  We need to get this straightened out.”

Jai smiled, “I think we finally have a name for the team, though.  The Outsiders.”

Damian shook his head and rolled his eyes, “No, that’s a stupid name.  That’s something Jason would come up with.  We’re better than that.”

Jai shrugged, “Well, we don’t have to decide that now.  Right now, we can work on the first part of your issue…friend.”

Damian turned back to Jai slowly, “I’d like that.  It’s your house, lead the way.”

Jai had never played tour guide before, not even in his own home, and he had no idea what Damian would want to see.  Shrugging, he turned and entered the kitchen, “You already saw the kitchen and dining room, but here they are again.”

“Jai’s favorite room in the house,” Irey said with a snort of laughter.

Jai blushed because it was true, “I love food; it’s not a crime.”

“How much you eat is criminal sometimes,” Irey shot back.

Damian surprised the twins by smiling at the banter.

“What,” Jai asked.

Damian smiled, “I like this.  It reminds me of my brothers, when we’re getting along, at least.  What’s next?”

The trio left the kitchen and reentered the living room.  “This is the living room,” Jai said, “We spend a lot of time in here.  Mom instituted a family game night once a week, so we spend a lot of time in here together.”

Damian cocked his head and gave a confused look, “Family game night?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Really,” Irey asked, surprised, “I’m surprised that Uncle Dick doesn’t try to start something like that.  He comes over for enough of our game nights.”

Through sheer force of will, Damian didn’t get jealous at the news of Dick doing something with West’s kids that he wouldn’t do with Damian.  Neither of the twins noticed the small fight that Damian won with himself.

“Jon and his parents do it, too,” Jai said, “That might be where we got it from.”

Jai pointed out the front entry hall before turning back and leading Damian past the kitchen and down the hall with a smile, “This is what Dad calls his office.”

Jai threw the door open to reveal the West family Zeta Tube.  There was also a small desk with a computer and a rack of costumes.  Damian could make out several copies of each hero’s uniform.

“Yeah, I saw this.”

Jai stopped and stared at Damian, “How?  You’ve never been here before.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “How do you think I got here today?  Alfred didn’t drive me to Ohio from Gotham City.”

“Oh,” Jai said.  He hadn’t really thought about how Damian came to appear in his home this morning.

The boys left the room, and Jai headed for another door at the end of the hall.

Damian stopped him and said, “I already saw the garage, too.  That’s where I took my call earlier.  Unless you had something you wanted to show me in there, we don’t have to see it again.”

Jai smirked, “But I do have something I want to show you.”

Jai led the older boy into the garage and ripped a tarp off of a large lump in the corner.  He looked back to see Damian’s jaw dropping slowly in genuine shock.

“You have a go-kart,” Damian asked in a wowed tone.

Jai smiled, “Yeah.  Dad got it for me last Christmas.”  Jai’s insecurities took over as he remembered that his houseguest was the son of a billionaire, “I’m sure yours is much better than mine.  It’s the best Dad could do on his budget.”

Damian shook his head, finally getting his jaw to snap closed, “I wish.  Father won’t let me have one.  He’s got this weird rule about not letting me drive anything until I’m sixteen.  I’ve been asking him for a go-kart for years.”

Jai was surprised at that.  _Dad let me have something that Mr. Wayne doesn’t allow Damian to have?  That’s…weird._   “Want to give it a try,” Jai asked slyly.

Damian nearly jumped for joy.  _Of course I want to give it a try, but I’m sure he has some rules for its use.  I don’t want him to have his go-kart taken away._   “Are you allowed to use it alone, or when your Father isn’t around?”

Jai looked down sheepishly, “Well…no.  But, Dad left you in charge today, so isn’t it your decision?”

_Tempting, tempting._   “It _is_ my decision, and my decision is to not get you in trouble.  Better that one of us has a go-kart than none of us.  Thank you for the offer, but it’s not a good idea right now.”

Jai shrugged, “Maybe when Dad gets home?”

Damian shook his head, “Your Dad said he would be back pretty late.  If we think about it, we can ask him tomorrow.”

Jai’s eyes brightened, “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m staying here tonight.”

“Sweet!  Then, we’ll definitely ride it tomorrow.”

A thought occurred to Damian and he took a closer look at the go-kart.  “Wait, your go-kart has left foot braking.  I can’t do that while in a cast.”

“Oh, right,” Jai said, his mood falling.

“You’ll have to drive, then,” Damian said.

“It’s a deal,” Jai said, covering the go-kart back up.

The boys headed back into the house, and Damian looked around, “Where’s Irey?”

Jai shrugged, “Don’t know.”

They returned to the living room and looked around, still not finding the girl.

“Let’s look upstairs,” Jai said.

Damian followed Jai, and he was very glad that the staircase was much shorter than the one at the Manor.

Jai stopped at the top of the stairs, in an open space that Damian wasn’t expecting.  “This used to be our play area when we were younger.  I was hoping to turn it into a game room, but Dad won’t let me put a TV up here.  Mom says that if we did that, they’d never see me again.”

Damian smirked, looking around the space, “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

Jai’s smile grew, “Yes.  Yes, it is.”

“If it’s not a play room anymore, what is it?”

Jai leaned against the wall, “Mom works from home sometimes, and she set up that desk in the corner to work.  That other table was set up as a home work space for Irey and I.”

Irey walked up behind the boys, “Jai’s lying to you.  You know that, right?”

“Lying about what,” Damian asked.

“That this isn’t a play room anymore.  He still plays in here.”

“I do not,” Jai retorted, blushing.

Irey smirked, “You were playing with your toy cars in here two days ago.”

Jai gave a frustrated grunt, “So what if I was?  It’s better than sitting in your room all day reading those magazines you read.  Cosmo, Teen Vogue, Teen Beat, Froo Froo Fashion Monthly.  How much money do you waste on those magazines?”

“Like you didn’t waste two months’ allowance on that video game that you just had to have,” Irey shot back, “You only played it once and you didn’t even like it.”

Damian was trying to hold in a laugh as he looked at Irey, “You really read a magazine called Froo Froo Fashion Monthly?”

“No,” Irey said before turning on Jai again, “Don’t get me started on magazines, Jai.  At least I don’t have to hide any of _my_ magazines under my mattress or in a shoe box hidden under a blanket in my closet.”

Jai paled instantly.  Damian looked back and forth between the twins and said, “I believe that is a win in this argument for Irey.  Did you want to continue the tour, or did you want some ice for those burns first?”

Jai rolled his eyes, “We can go.”

Jai started to walk away as Damian asked Irey, “Did you get tired of showing me around already, Irey?”

“It doesn’t take two to give a tour of this place.”

Damian looked carefully at the girl before giving a small smile, “What’s his name?”

“What’s who’s name,” Irey asked, confused.

“The boy you were talking to on the phone,” Damian said softly.

Irey shook her head, “I wasn’t talking to a boy.”

“Your right ear is red, while your left ear isn’t,” Damian pointed out, “You were on the phone with someone.”

Irey rolled her eyes, “I was talking to Lian.  Why did you think it was a boy?”

Damian shrugged, “I had a fifty-fifty shot.  It was worth a try.  You going to finish out the tour with us?”

Irey shook her head with a smile, “I have a Froo Froo Fashion magazine to read.”

Damian nodded, “Just make sure I know where you are every so often.”

“Okay,” Irey said, walking back to her room.

Damian followed Irey down the hall and turned left into the bedroom, across the hall from Irey’s.  The brightly colored bedroom seemed to fit Jai perfectly.  Posters of cars and sports teams covered the walls, and a hanging light fixture with alternating white and orange bulbs gave off a strange light spectrum.

Damian surprised Jai when he spoke from the doorway.  “So, your sister found your porn, huh?”

Jai looked up from where he was hastily shoving a box back into the closet, “No, my Dad did.  He then told Mom, who grounded me for a month.”

“You need better hiding spots,” Damian said.

“You can come in, you know,” Jai said to the teen, who was still standing in the doorway, as Jai kicked a shoe into the closet before closing the closet door.

“Thank you,” Damian said, walking into the space.

It was less than half the size of his own bedroom, but Damian didn’t feel cramped in the smaller space.  It felt well-used and comfortable.  Even if he hadn’t known who the occupant of the room was, Damian would have felt comfortable in guessing that this was Jai’s bedroom.

“It’s definitely…you.”

“What is,” Jai asked, confused.

“This room,” Damian said, “I can see your influences all over the place.”

Jai looked at his guest, “Oh, thanks.  Say, while we’re talking rooms, why don’t you decorate your bedroom?  It was kinda…well…plain.  Don’t you want your room to be an extension of you?”

_I thought it was an extension of me,_ Damian thought.  He looked at Jai strangely, “My room is decorated to suit my tastes.”

“So, that painting of the sailboat was your choice?”

Damian looked down, “That was hanging on the wall when I moved in.  I just never bothered to replace it.”

The boys grew uncomfortably silent for a minute before Jai asked, “Hey, do you have any nicknames?”

Damian cocked his head at his friend, “That’s a strange question.  Why do you ask?”

Jai blushed in embarrassment, “It’s…everything about you is so formal.  You have the bedroom of a grandfather.  You wore a button-down, long-sleeve shirt to come spend the day with your friends.  You call your dad ‘Father.’  You are fourteen years old and already talking about settling down and getting married.  Where is the fourteen-year-old in all of that?  When do you just let yourself be a kid?”

Damian sighed, “I knew this would come up eventually.  I don’t allow myself to be a kid, because I was never allowed to be a kid.  From the moment my hand could grip something, I was trained.  I was trained to be what I am now.  I’ve considered myself to be an adult since I was four years old, because I’ve been treated like an adult since I was four years old.  I told you I was trained for a purpose.  That training didn’t allow for anything like…this,” Damian gestured to the room around him.

Jai sighed and looked down, “So, we really are just children to you.”

Damian took a deep breath, “No.  You’re a teacher to me.  The whole team is.  I told this to Jon, and I’ll tell you, too.  I was put in charge of the team to teach you all how to act and behave and respond like future Justice League members.  You all were put on the team to teach me how to act my age, and how to be a normal person.”

Jai grew a slow smile, “Now _that_ is a worthy mission.  So, let’s start with my original question.  Any nicknames?”

Damian shrugged, “Several.  I don’t know if I want you calling me any of them, though.  Most of them are…not very nice.”

Jai winced, “Okay, what does your Dad call you?”

“Damian, or son.”

Jai said, “Right, that won’t work.”

Damian continued like he hadn’t heard Jai, “He calls me Kiddo or Pal sometimes, too.  Those were names he used to call Dick, when he was a child.”

Jai shook his head, “Don’t worry, we’ll get there.  What does your girlfriend call you?”

Damian looked Jai straight in the eye and said without blinking, “Lover.”

Jai gave a surprised look, “I’m not going to call you that.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jai nodded, “Does anyone call you Dami?”

Damian flinched hard, “Not if they want to live.  I _hate_ that name.”

“Not if they want to live,” Jai repeated questioningly.

Damian smiled, “Dick called me that when we first met.  I told him I didn’t like that name, but he wouldn’t stop calling me that.  So, I made him stop.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask you how,” Jai said nervously.

“I gave him a concussion, and knocked out one of his teeth,” Damian remembered with a smile.  “Father and Alfred were pissed, but Dick finally got the message.  At least, he did after the surgery to replace the tooth.”

“What does he call you now?”

Damian thought for a second, “Little Brother.  I actually like that one, but again, not one you can use.”

Undaunted, Jai shook his head, “That’s okay, we’re getting there.  How about Jason?”

Damian looked down, almost sadly, “He calls me lots of things.  Most of them are kinda mean or inappropriate.  I…I don’t like them.”

“Like what,” Jai asked curiously.

Damian sighed and spoke softly, “He used to call me Demon Spawn.”

Jai cocked his head to the side, “I hate to say it, but that one does kinda fit you, sometimes.”

“I know,” Damian said sadly, “He called me that because of my attitude.  Believe it or not, I used to be much more of an asshole than I am now.”

“Is that possible,” Jai asked, with a joking smile.

Damian stopped himself from overreacting to the remark when he saw the smile.  “Yes, it is, and you really don’t want to see it.  Jason just calls me stuff related to my height now.  Again, you’re not going to call me Short Shit, especially when I’m five inches taller than you.”

Jai sighed, “So, you went from Demon Spawn to Short Shit?”

“They both hurt to hear,” Damian said softly.

Jai nodded, running out of options, “Then we won’t use them.  How about Tim?  What does he call you?”

Damian looked up, “Tim?  Let me think.  He usually just calls me Damian, or Brother.”  Damian was quiet for a second while thinking, then said, “D.  He calls me D.  It used to be Little D, but we’re nearly the same height now, so it’s just D now.”

“Do you like that one,” Jai asked nervously.

Damian thought for a second, “Yeah, I do.  I…I guess that one is appropriate for use.”

Jai smiled, “Then we found one.  Out of curiosity, why Little D?  Was that just because you were shorter?”

Damian shook his head, “No, it’s because of Dick.  There were two of us with D names, so it just fit.  He was Big D, I was Little D.  It was just our ages, I guess.”

“Why do you say ‘was’?”

Damian shrugged, “I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just becoming my own person, and they don’t feel a need to compare me to Dick anymore.  I kinda liked being compared to him, though.  It gave me something to, you know, work for.”

“I don’t get it,” Jai said.

Damian looked at the younger boy in front of him and said, “Dick is a big kid, everyone knows it.  He is also the first person to be able to go step for step, toe to toe, with Batman.  He was the original sidekick.  He showed us all how to do it.  And, he’s a really good person.  He’s what I want to be, and you will never repeat that to anyone, ever.”

Jai nodded, then said, “You say that a lot.  Why is it such a bad thing for you to share with people, or to have people know things about you?  You just spent the last half hour helping me to get to know you better, then you turn around and say you don’t want people to be able to know you better.”

Damian sighed as he shook his head, “When you’re raised with secrets being the norm, it isn’t easy to open up.  Even this far removed from my mother, I still can’t shake some of the things that were beaten into me.  I don’t want people using things I’ve said or done against me.  I don’t like being made a fool of.”

“Damian, _no one_ likes being made fun of,” Jai said.  “You didn’t tell me anything that could be used against you, and…I wouldn’t do that.  Not to my friend.”

Damian met Jai’s eyes for several long seconds and found honesty there.  _Maybe I’ve been the problem all along, not other people.  It’s just so hard to change, though.  Still, this is a start._   “Thank you, Jai.  You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Jai smiled, “What are friends for, D?”

Damian shrugged, “This, I guess.”

“Right,” Jai said.  “There’s only a little of the house left that you haven’t seen.  How about we see that, and then, I don’t know, play some games or something?”

“Sounds good to me, but first, I need to prove my earlier point.”  Damian walked over to Jai’s bed, reached under the pillow, and pulled out a well-thumbed and wrinkled magazine.  Jai’s jaw dropped in shock as Damian turned to the youth and said, “You need better hiding places.”

“How did you do that,” Jai asked softly.

Damian just winked as he handed over the magazine.  “Is that a new one or one that no one found?”

Jai shook himself out of his shock and gave a small smile, “No, Dad gave it back to me after my punishment and told me to hide it better and not let my Mom know I have it.  Obviously, I didn’t.”  Damian smirked as Jai hastily stuffed the magazine back under his pillow, “I’ll find a better hiding spot for it later.  Maybe you can help me with that tonight?”

“Maybe,” Damian said as they turned for the door, “What’s left to see of the house?”

Jai stopped in the hall and said, “Actually, just Irey’s room and my parent’s room, but they don’t really like people going in there.”

“We don’t need to see it, then,” Damian said.

Jai walked across the hall and shoved Irey’s door open, “This is Irey’s room.”

The girl gasped as her door bounced off the wall, “You could have knocked, jerk.”

Jai smirked, “Yes, I could, but I didn’t.”

While Jai walked straight into the room, Damian remained standing in the doorway, looking around at the space.  Damian expected the walls to be covered in pink, but they weren’t.  The walls were painted in a warm white, which was almost a very pale tan.  It was comfortably furnished, and like Jai’s room suited the boy, Irey’s room suited the girl.

“What were you doing in here that you didn’t want anyone to see,” Jai asked with an evil smirk.

Irey rolled her eyes, “I was trying to get away from you.”

“You know that’s almost impossible,” Jai said to his twin.

“Almost,” Irey replied, “means there is still a way to do it.  Why are you just standing in the hall, Damian?”

“I wasn’t invited in,” the teen said.

“My friends don’t need an invitation,” Irey said with a smile before turning back to her brother, “My _brother_ does.”

Jai turned to look at Damian, “Will you listen to her?  Only four minutes older than me and she thinks she can boss me around.”

“Well, she might have a point, Jai.”

“What do you mean,” Jai asked.

Damian looked back and forth between the twins before saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you could act a little older than you do.  I met my girlfriend when I was your age, and if I acted the way you do sometimes, Robin and I never would have gotten past the first date.”

Irey smirked at her brother, “See?  It’s not just the family who notices that.”

Damian sighed at the way Jai’s look was falling, “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Jai, and I’m sorry if I did.  I’m just trying to help you.  You can tell me to shut up and go away if you want.”

Damian let out a rough sigh and turned towards the hall, “God, why do I do that?  Seriously, why can’t I stop myself from saying things that hurt my friends?  You didn’t do anything to deserve that, Jai.  We were having a good time and I had to ruin it by telling you to grow up.  Damn, there’s something wrong with me.”

Damian left the room, to the confusion of the twins.  They stared at each other for a long second before Jai hurried out of the bedroom.

He caught up with Damian at the top of the stairs, “Damian, wait.”

“I’m sorry, Jai.  I told you, I’m an asshole.”

Jai followed Damian down the stairs, “You might be an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.  People have been telling me to grow up for years, maybe I should finally listen.  It’s really okay.  It might have been a shock to hear it put so bluntly, but I’m not upset.  Don’t be upset, Damian.”

Damian shook his head, “Rivalry was bred into me.  I can’t help it, no matter how much I try.  First it was my brothers, now it’s my friends.  I don’t want to be this way.  Please just bear with me.  I really do want to be friends.”

Jai gave a soft smile, “My Mom always says that honest friends are the best friends.  We’re cool, Damian.”

The boys stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Damian turned to meet Jai’s eyes.  “Thank you.”

Jai just smiled and clapped Damian on the arm, “Come on, the games await!”

_Three Hours Later…_

Irey wandered into the living room after finishing her magazine.  She had been worried about how the boys might be faring, given the last interaction in her room.  She knew that Jai wasn’t the best negotiator around, and didn’t know if he and Damian would be able to fix things on their own.

It turned out that she worried for nothing.  The girl wasn’t even noticed by the boys when she walked into the room, with how engrossed the boys were in their video game.  Irey plopped herself down on the couch next to Damian, but wasn’t noticed by either boy until almost an hour later, when she moved over and leaned against Damian’s arm.

The teen nearly jumped off of the couch at the surprise contact.  “Irey!”

Irey smirked, “What?  Did ‘Mr. Situational Awareness’ miss something?”

Damian leaned back with a sigh, “Maybe.”

Irey leaned against Damian again while he settled himself.  A minute later, Damian asked, “What’s going on?”

“I originally came down here because I was hungry, but now I don’t really want to move,” Irey said, “You’re comfortable.  Did you know that?”

Damian smiled, “Yes, I did.  Robin always tells me that I’m her favorite pillow.”

A grumble emanated from Damian’s other side.  Damian and Irey looked over at Jai, who blushed as he held one hand over his stomach and asked, “You heard that?”

They nodded before Damian looked up at the clock on the wall, “Oh.  We’ve been playing for longer than I thought.  I guess this is a good time to stop for lunch.”

The twins gave a matching, hissed, “Yes!”

Damian smirked as he stood up, “I did promise you something special, since you took care of breakfast on your own.  Did you have anything in mind?”

Jai spoke up as they headed for the kitchen, “I wanted eggs this morning.  How about omelets?”

Irey looked at her brother strangely, “Eggs for lunch?  That’s just weird.”

Damian shook his head, “Not really.  You do know that the United States is one of the few countries in the world that separates specific foods for specific meals.  You go to other countries, you aren’t always going to find a breakfast menu.”

Jai and Irey looked at Damian strangely.  Irey asked, “How many foreign countries have you been to, to know that?”

“There are roughly two hundred countries in the world.  I’ve been to eighty-nine of them.”

Jai smiled, “That’s a lot.  What’s the longest you’ve been outside of the U.S.?”

“Ten years,” Damian said, pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator.

“How is that possible,” Jai asked.

Damian stopped what he was doing and turned to the twins, “You mean you don’t know this?”  The twins shook their heads, so Damian continued, “I wasn’t born here.  I didn’t set foot on American soil until I was ten years old.”

Jai gasped and asked softly, “You’re an illegal alien?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I’m a naturalized citizen.  It’s okay for me to be here; I went through the legal process.”

“Wow,” Irey said quietly.

Damian met Jai’s eyes and asked seriously, “Is it a problem that I wasn’t born in the United States?”

“Well, no,” Jai said, looking uncomfortable, “I just wasn’t expecting that.  It doesn’t change anything for me.  I still want to be friends.”

Damian gave a nod, “Good.  Where are the pans?”

Irey pulled out a couple pans while Damian started preparing the eggs.  They settled on ham, tomato, bacon, and cheese omelets, even though the only ham available was cold cuts and the only bacon was Bacon Bits.  After a lifetime of gourmet cooking, Damian had never seen Bacon Bits before, and he was a bit horrified at the prospect of eating artificial, bacon flavored, soy chunks.  It was what the twins wanted, so he bit his tongue and added them to the mixture.  Damian smiled to himself as he thought, _back home, Alfred’s eye is twitching, and he has no idea why._

As Damian was grating potatoes for hash browns, he said, “Why don’t you two pick a movie for us to watch during lunch?”

Jai smiled, “That’s a good idea.  What are you going to pick, Irey?”

Damian stopped his preparations and stared at Jai with a dumbfounded look on his face.  “That was very nice of you, Jai.”

Jai shrugged, “We were arguing about things like that a lot, so Mom made it a rule that we had to switch off on making those kinds of decisions.  It’s her turn.”

“No, it’s not,” Irey said, shaking her head, “I picked last night’s TV show.”

Jai cocked his head, “You did?  I thought Dad picked that.  Oh well.  Why don’t you pick again, and I’ll pick the next one?”

Damian poured the first omelet as Irey asked, “Have you ever seen The Neverending Story, Damian?”

Jai smiled and said, “Ooh, that’s a good one.”

Damian shook his head, “Never heard of it.”

“You’ll like it,” Irey said.

Damian turned the omelet, then turned away from the stove with a smirk, “How long is it?”

Jai caught on to the joking tone in Damian’s voice and said with a laugh, “It’s never-ending.  I’ll go set it up.”

Jai left the kitchen as Irey pulled plates out of a cupboard at Damian’s request.  Irey asked, “You’ve really never heard of it?”

“Nope.  Is it new?”

Irey shook her head and said, “No, it’s old.  _Really_ old.  Like, 1980’s old.”

Damian plated the first two omelets and said, “Compared to us, that’s old, but in the long run, that’s not so old.”

“I guess not,” Irey said as Damian started the third omelet and turned the hash browns.

Jai came back in to the kitchen, “Movie’s ready.”

Damian nodded, “Food is going to be a couple more minutes.  If you want something to drink, get it.”

Jai walked over to the refrigerator with a smile and poured himself a glass of chocolate milk.  “You two want some?”

“Yeah,” Irey said.

Damian shrugged, “Sure.”

Damian plated the rest of lunch, and he walked into the living room, followed by Irey.

Jai had to consciously stop himself from drooling, “Wow, that looks good.  I can’t wait to see what you come up with for dinner.”

“Why don’t we finish lunch first,” Damian said, “or even start lunch.”

Jai got up again and headed for the kitchen, saying, “Forgot something.”

The boy came back with a bottle of ketchup.  Damian watched him warily and said, “Please tell me you aren’t planning on…”

Damian trailed off with a look of horror on his face as Jai squeezed the plastic bottle over his plate and asked, “What?”

Damian shuddered, “Ketchup on eggs.  I don’t think I can be your friend anymore, Jai.”

The movie played, the meal was eaten, and the boys remained friends despite Jai’s questionable topping choice.  Deciding that the dishes could wait until after the movie, the three youths sat back on the couch and watched the adventures of Atreyu and Bastian play out on screen.

Half an hour into the movie, Damian’s ears perked up.  “Hey, what’s that?”

“Weren’t you paying attention,” Irey asked, “That’s Falkor, the Luck Dragon.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “No, the noise.”

Jai cocked an ear to listen for a moment before saying, “That’s Mr. Johnson, next door.  He mows his lawn every Saturday, rain or shine, whether it needs it or not.”

Damian settled back on the couch between his friends.  “So, nothing to worry about?”

“Nope, nothing to worry about,” Jai said with a yawn.

Ten minutes later, all three youths jumped off the couch as an ear-splitting electric wail screeched through the house.

They all had their hands over their ears as Damian yelled, “What the hell is that?”

“That’s the house alarm,” Irey yelled back.

The trio turned and their jaws dropped as they saw the front door standing wide open.  They could see no one but themselves in the room.

“Turn that damn thing off,” Damian shouted to Jai.

He turned in time to see Jai slumping to the floor.  Damian only had enough time to gasp before a sharp pain brought his attention back to himself.  Damian looked down to see three familiar-looking darts sticking out of the center of his chest.  A familiar, yet unwelcome, dizzy feeling overtook the teen, who had just enough time to think, ‘ _Not again’_ , before crashing to the floor himself.

 

**A/N:  Well, what do you think so far?  As you can tell, this is only the first half of this part of the tale.  This was taking too long to come together, so I decided to split this chapter up into two chapters.  Don’t worry, the second half is almost done, and should be a bit shorter than this half.  We have some interesting revelations coming in the next chapter, including which group is the real enemy.**

**By the way, I’ve been wanting to write that pregnancy scare for a while now, and this just seemed like a good place to put it.  I think it served as a nice catalyst for Damian to learn that it’s okay to open up to his friends.**

**Thanks for sticking with me so far.  I would love to hear how you all think this one is coming along.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	10. 10

Hero Hunt

Chapter 10

_The following takes place immediately after chapter 9._

 

“Hey, come on, Wally.  You know the rules.  No phones in the lab.”

Wally sighed as he silenced the notification that had just started ringing for the second time.  He looked over at his supervisor, who was staring at him expectantly, “Sorry, guys.”

The supervisor asked, “You want to get that?”

Wally shook his head, “It’s not a call, it’s a notification.  It’s probably just my wife texting to see if I’ve checked on the kids lately.”

“Well, this needs to sit for a half hour.  Go check it so you can get your head back in the game.”

Wally walked out of the lab and pulled his phone from his pocket.  _Huh, it’s not a text.  Oh no._

Wally’s supervisor nudged the redhead as he saw the horrified look on the man’s face, “What’s wrong?”

Wally had to gasp in order to breathe, “T-that wasn’t a text, it was an alert from my home security system.  Someone broke into my home.  Boss, I gotta go.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, go.  Let me know what happens.  I’ll see you on Monday.”

_Ten Minutes Later…_

Dick leaned against the back of Bruce’s computer chair as the older man typed into a report in the Bat computer.

“When’s the U.N. meeting?”

Bruce shook his head, “Clark is setting that up.  He said he is going to try for Tuesday, but we’ll see how the schedule works out.”  Bruce closed out his report and turned him chair, nearly dislodging Dick, “Why?  Did you want to come?”

Dick shook his head, “I’ve never had the best of luck in New York.  I’ll read about it in the newspaper.”

Bruce’s next comment was cut off as the Zeta Tube powered up and announced Wally’s arrival.  Wally appeared for an instant, only to disappear and reappear next to the Dynamic Duo.

“I thought you were working today, Wals,” Dick said.

Wally shook his head, close to hyperventilating.  He was blurring before the Bats as Bruce said authoritatively, “Slow down.  What happened?”

“My home,” Wally gasped.

Bruce cringed, “What did the kids do?”

Wally shook his head again as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed the security camera recordings of the camera trained on his front door.

“What am I watching,” Bruce asked, before his jaw dropped.  The front door opened of its own accord a second before the alarm started blaring.  “Did the kids do that?”

Wally shook his head, “They know to turn the alarm off before going outside.  Watch this one.”

Wally brought up a second clip.  This one showed the kids walking out of the house and out of frame.

“Where are they going,” Dick asked, “They could have at least closed the door.”

Bruce shook his head, “They didn’t go anywhere.  At least, not under their own power.  Give me the phone.”

Bruce took the phone and hooked it up to the computer.  They watched the video three more times on the big screen before Bruce paused the playback.

“Look.  It looks like they’re walking, but their feet aren’t touching the ground.  Look at how their arms are held and how they aren’t supporting their heads.  The kids are unconscious, and being held up by our invisible friends to make it look like the kids are leaving on their own.”

The screen blanked as Wally’s phone started ringing.  The video clip was replaced by a large picture of Linda West’s smiling face on the big screen.  “Oh, this is going to suck,” Wally said as he picked up the phone and answered the call.  “Hi, honey.  Did you…Yes, I saw it…No, I’m not still at work.  I’m looking into where they took our kids…I’m with Bruce and Dick…Yes, I said took.  This has to be the same people from before…Honey, will you calm down.”  Wally winced at Linda’s reaction, “Yes, that was a stupid thing to say…Linda, we’ll get them back.  I don’t care how invisible these people are, they can’t hide from us…Look, just try to relax, we’ll take care of this…Love you, too, Honey.”

Wally hung up his phone and closed his eyes for a second.  When he turned back, his eyes were blazing, “These people were in my home.  They took our kids.  I want them.  I want my babies back, and I want these fuckers in jail.  How do we find them?”

“Start with the kid’s phones,” Bruce said.

Wally pulled three devices out of his pocket, “You mean these?  That was the first thing I thought of, too.  They were left on the couch.  What else you got?”

Bruce tapped several buttons on the computer console.  Red Robin appeared on the big screen.  He was taking a monitoring shift on the Watchtower today.  Red Robin looked at the three men and said, “Uh-oh.  I don’t like the look of this.”

“Our invisible friends struck again,” Bruce started.

“They got my kids,” Wally interrupted Harshly.

Red Robin started in shock, “How did Damian let that happen?”

“They got him, too,” Dick said.

“Did we have a satellite covering Ohio today,” Bruce asked.

Red Robin typed in a search, then shook his head, “No, we didn’t.”

“Did _anyone_ have a satellite overhead where we can possibly get video footage,” Bruce asked.

Red had already been typing, anticipating the question.  He winced, “You’re not going to like it, Bruce.”

“Who?”

“China.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Great.  Can you hack the Great Firewall of China?”

Red gave a strange look, “With or without causing an international incident?”

“I could go either way,” Wally growled.

Bruce looked at Wally before turning back to the screen, “Without would be preferable.  I’m going to call Clark.  Look for any other possible way to know where they were taken.”

Red Robin nodded and was typing as he mumbled, “Or, we can just wait for Damian to free himself and contact us.”

Wally and Bruce both glared at the screen, making Red Robin glad he was in orbit and not in the cave.

Trying to head off trouble, Dick said, “Am I the only one curious about why Red China has a satellite over the Midwest?”

“Kids first,” Bruce said, “international espionage later.”

_Later?_

Damian gasped in the dark as he regained consciousness.  This time, it wasn’t the room that was dark around him, it was the blindfold that was tied tightly around his head.

_How long was I out this time?  Last time, it was six hours.  Last time, I was only hit by one dart, though.  I was hit by three darts this time.  Does that mean I’ve been unconscious for eighteen hours?  I don’t think so.  I’m not hungry.  If I’d been asleep for eighteen hours, I would be pretty hungry.  At least whoever this is was kind enough to let us finish lunch before they kidnapped us.  No, I think it’s only been a couple hours, at most._

Damian tried to roll over, but found his process hampered.  _We definitely aren’t in West’s home anymore.  The only concrete floor they had, that I saw, was in the garage.  This space feels bigger than that.  Handcuffs and ropes, huh?  Not the hardest things to get out of, but it will take time with what I have available to me right now.  First thing first, don’t panic.  Second, find the kids.  This is, or should be, their home town.  Maybe they will know where we are once we get our blindfolds off.  We can’t still be in their home.  There is no way that alarm could go off and West not be five minutes or less behind it._

Damian heard a gasp behind him, and knew one of the other kids had woken up.

“Hello,” the voice called out.

_It’s Jai._ Damian answered, “I know you can’t do this, but remain calm.”

“I can’t see,” the boy called out.

“It’s just a blindfold,” Damian said quickly, trying to calm the younger boy, “You’re alright.”

“Where are you, Da…”

“No names,” Damian called out harshly, “Until we know more, we don’t use names.  I’m D, you’re J, she’s I.”

“I’m always J, though.  It’s the same whether it’s my initial or my name.”

_He has a point there._   “Well, that’s your Father’s fault.  Where’s I?”

“H-here,” said the feminine voice with a sniffle.

“Are you okay,” Damian asked.

“I-I don’t know.  I wanna go home.”

_She got that we aren’t at her home anymore.  Good._   “I know, and we’ll get there.  First things first.  Did you hear what I said about names?”

“Yes, D.”

Damian gave a small smile, “Good.  Let’s establish a few things first.  We’re all blindfolded, right?”

“Yes,” the twins answered together.

“Okay.  We’re all tied up, with our hands behind our backs and our legs tied to our handcuffs?”

“Yes,” came the simultaneous, affirmative response.

Damian continued, “Are you both laying on the floor?”

“I am,” Jai said.

“Me too,” Irey said.

Damian let out a loud whistle, which shocked the twins.

“What did you do that for,” Jai asked, “Don’t you want to try to keep it a secret that we’re awake?”

“I wanted to judge the echo to try to see how big the room is,” Damian said, “Besides, with the three of us blindfolded and unable to see the room around us, for all we know our captors could be right next to us, watching.”

“I really didn’t need to think about that, D,” Irey said heavily.

Jai spoke up, “Um, do either of you have some sort of…thing around your neck?”

Damian moved his head and could feel a thick, unidentifiable ring surrounding his neck.  “Yes, I do.”

“Me too,” Irey said nervously.

“Do you think it’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Jai asked.

_Well, of course it’s a bad thing,_ Damian thought.  He couldn’t say that out loud, though.  “One problem at a time, J.  Let’s work together to shed a little light on our situation.”

“What’s that supposed to me-aaah!”

While Jai was talking, Damian rolled closer to the youth, and ended up rolling over Jai, which caused him to shout.

Damian sighed, “Didn’t I warn you to remain calm?”

“You could have warned me of what you were going to do,” Jai snapped back.

Damian smiled, “Yes, I could.  Where are your hands?”

“Tied behind my back.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I _know_ that.  Where exactly?  Move them, or something.”

“What for,” Jai asked.

“Because you’re going to help me get my blindfold off.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

Jai moved his hands.  Damian followed the jangling of the handcuffs with his ears, trying to position his head near his friend’s hands.

“Okay, I found them.  Roll onto your side, J.”  The boy did, and Damian sighed loudly, “Your _other_ side, J.”

Irey giggled from a few feet away at what she could imagine her brother had just done.  Hearing the laugh, Damian said, “I, start making your way over here.  Okay, J, hold your hands out.”

“Okay.  They’re out,” Jai said.

“Now, this might feel a little weird, but keep your hands still until I tell you to move them.”

“Got it,” Jai said.

Damian squirmed until he was able to position his face in Jai’s hands.  Irey rolled over Damian’s legs, and the teen said, “I think that’s close enough, I.  J, very carefully, start feeling for the blindfold.  Be very careful.  My eyes are under this mask, and I like being able to see.”

Gently, Jai started feeling Damian’s face, but he didn’t come close to the blindfold.  “Where is it?”

“Hold on,” Damian said before angling his head to place his forehead in Jai’s palms.  “There, try it now.  Try to grab hold of the blindfold.”

“I got it now,” Jai said.

Damian closed his eyes as he felt the youth’s fingers curl under the blindfold.  “Okay, first of all, when we get out of here, we’re trimming your fingernails.  Second, don’t move.”

Slowly, but forcefully, Damian slid his head down towards his chest.  The blindfold slid off of his head in Jai’s grasp.  Damian blinked at the light of the room around him.  _Well, that’s one thing down.  Do I want to believe my eyes that we are the only people in this room, or should I assume we are being watched by our invisible voyeurs, or cameras?  Either way, we have to get out of here.  They can watch all they want, I’m getting us out of here._

“Thanks, J,” Damian said, “Roll towards me, so I can get your blindfold off.”

“Okay,” both kids said at the same time.

_Oh, right._   “No, I meant J, I.  Thanks for being ready, though.  I’ll get you next.”

Jai rolled over and Damian grabbed hold of the thick black cloth.  He pulled it gently from the boy’s head.  “Better?”

“Much,” Jai said, with relief in his tone.

Damian gave a small smile to the boy.  “I, your turn.  Stay still, I’ll move around you.”

Damian did, and soon all three were able to see the room around them.  It was large, like Damian had expected.  The kids were laid in one corner of the space.  Damian could see a computer server rack and several desks in the center of the room.  A walled-off room took up the far side of the room.

Jai sighed, “Well, we can see.  What’s next?”

Damian smirked at the boy before rolling over and saying, “Hey, J?  Do you want to see why I almost always wear long sleeves when I leave the house?”

Confused at the question, which Jai thought was asked for distraction purposes, Jai said slowly, “Um, sure.”

“Watch closely,” Damian said.

Damian reached up and unbuttoned his left sleeve.  Reaching up as far as he could into the arm of his shirt, Damian pulled a small knife from the sheath strapped to his forearm.

Jai gasped, “You just happened to have that on you?”

Damian started sawing through the rope tying his legs to his handcuffs and said, “Old habits die hard.  I almost never go anywhere without at least one knife on me.”

“Why am I not surprised about that,” Jai asked rhetorically.

“Why did you feel you needed to have that when you came over to our house,” Irey asked.

Damian looked up and said seriously, “Because I don’t know where you keep your weapons in your house.”

Damian freed his feet, then rolled onto his back and pulled his knees up to his chest to slip his cuffed hands around to his front.  Standing up, Damian walked over to Jai and started cutting his ropes.  “Actually, having this knife proves something about our captors.  They are sloppy.  They only checked us for our phones.  They only checked our pockets, not anywhere else.”

“How is that good,” Irey asked as Damian freed her legs, “I mean, what if they are just observing us, to see how we work?”

“We don’t know that,” Damian said with a sigh, “All we can do is move forward and try to get out of here.”

“Okay, we’re out of the ropes,” Jai said, “How do we get out of the cuffs?”

Damian looked over with a smirk, “You mean to tell me that your Father didn’t teach you how to get out of handcuffs?”

Jai rolled his eyes, “No, he focused on teaching us ways to not get in them in the first place.”

Damian shrugged, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Damian started looking at Irey’s head critically, which caused the girl to react.  “What?  What is it?  Do I have a bug in my hair?”

Damian shook his head, “No, I was looking for a hair pin.”

Irey released a breath, “You could have just asked.  I don’t have one.”

“Why don’t you just use the knife,” Jai asked.

Damian shook his head absently while glancing around the room, “Blade’s too thick.  I need something thinner.”

Damian walked over to the computer servers, “See if you guys can find, like, a paperclip, or something.  Something thin that I can work with.”

The trio searched around the room for several minutes before Damian reached into the trash can next to one of the desks and said, “This might work.”

Jai and Irey turned to watch Damian pull the straw out of a fast food cup and bite the end to get the shape he was looking for.

Jai cringed, “Did you just put that in your mouth?  You don’t know who was sucking on that.”

Damian looked up, “Do you want to get out of here, or not?”

“Of course,” Jai said, “But how is a straw going to…”

Jai’s jaw dropped as Damian slipped the end of the straw into the cuffs, under the shackle.  With a little finagling, Damian was able to loosen his cuffs enough to slip his left hand out.

“Are you kidding me,” Jai said, “Were you trained by MacGyver, or something?”

Damian had no idea who this MacGyver person might be, and shrugged as he released Irey from her cuffs.  The girl rubbed her wrists and asked, “Why wasn’t that covered during escape and evasion training?”

“We’ll get there,” Damian said before turning to Jai, “I don’t know who this MacGyver is.  I just used what I think I know about our captors against them.”

“What did this teach you,” Irey asked as Jai’s cuffs were opened.

“It taught me that out captors have no law enforcement experience.  This wouldn’t have worked if they had actually locked the cuffs.  All they did was close them.  Someone with law enforcement experience would know to lock them, so the pin couldn’t be pushed out of the way.”

Jai was rubbing his wrists as he said, “Let’s work on getting these collars off.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a new voice said loudly.

The youths gasped in shock and turned in the direction of the voice.  They stared for half a minute until a head appeared out of thin air.  Irey screamed and held on to her brother in fright as the floating head moved closer.  The head, and presumably the rest of the person, was a tall man with dark brown eyes and a recently shaved head.

Damian unconsciously moved between the twins and the newly revealed observer.  _So, they were watching after all.  How much did I reveal to them?  Where are the rest of them?  There had to be more than one to get all three of us out of West’s house in a timely manner._

“Why not,” Damian asked, shifting the knife in his hand to try to keep it hidden.

“Because you can’t get it off on your own,” the man said, “You’re not going to be able to pick that lock with a straw, or a pocket knife.  By the way, you can drop that knife now.”

“Why would I do that,” Damian asked.

“Because I control you,” the floating head said.

Damian couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped his mouth at that comment.  “If you controlled me, you wouldn’t have to ask me to drop the knife.  Since you asked, and I didn’t do it, you obviously don’t control me.”

“Oh, but I do,” the man said smoothly, “I control all of you.  For example.”

Damian heard a click and a buzz from behind him.  Instantly, Jai gasped deeply, and both of his hands clawed uselessly at the collar around his neck.

Damian turned, “J, what is it?”

“It burns,” the boy said in a pained gasp, “It burns!”

“What are you doing to him,” Damian shouted.

Before the disembodied head could answer, Damian caught a whiff of the acrid scent of burning flesh.  “Heater coils built into the collars.  Just one of the many surprises those little miracles hold.  You can end his suffering, you know.”

“How,” Damian growled.

“Just drop the knife.”

Damian’s eyes blazed and he flipped the knife around to throw it at his adversary.  The man shook his head sadly, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.  You see, we aren’t alone here, and there is more than one remote to control the collars.”

Damian growled as he threw the knife to the floor, “Turn it off.”

The man shook his head again, “My, my.  Such bad manners.  We have so much to teach you.  Try again.”

“Turn it off,” Damian shouted as Jai sank to his knees in pain.

“Try again,” the man growled.

If looks could kill, this man would have been vaporized on the spot.  Damian ground out, “Please.”

The man gave a bright smile, “See?  You can do it.”

The coils were deactivated, and Damian knelt next to Jai.  With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Damian said softly, “J, speak to me.”

The obviously scared and hurting boy looked up with wet eyes and whispered, “Get him, D.  Make him pay.”

Damian gave a short nod as the man continued talking, “You obviously have much to learn.  Didn’t mommy and daddy teach you anything?”

Damian stood again and growled, “I was taught how to kill.  I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration.”

The man shook his head and pressed another button on his remote.  Instantly, Irey fell to the ground, writhing in pain and screaming in agony as electrodes sent wave after wave of electricity through the girl’s neck.

“Such a proud, strong warrior.  If you want this to stop, you will have to do what I say, when I say it.  Now, beg me to spare her.”

Damian snarled, “End this.”

“End this, what?”

The words tasted sour in the teen’s mouth, “Please end this.”

The man gave an evil smile, “On.  Your.  Knees.”

Grimacing, Damian did what he needed to do to save his team.  Biting his tongue, Damian dropped to his knees and bowed his head, “Don’t hurt them.  Please.”

Irey’s torture stopped, and the girl huddled on the floor next to her brother.  Damian was looking back and forth between the twins and their captor for half a minute, until the man snarled and yelled, “Not good enough!”

The electrodes in all three collars activated, sending all three youths flopping to the floor in agony.

It took Damian a minute to realize that the flow of electricity had stopped.  He didn’t really care if he got injured, but Damian knew he couldn’t be reckless if he was going to get the twins out.  He had to go along with this sadist for now, to save them in the long run.

The man’s voice sounded from much closer than before, “It appears that school is in session, since I’m going to have to teach you all a lesson you won’t soon forget.”

Damian rolled onto his side and stared through his attacker’s body.  _Those suits are amazing.  I’m two feet away, and there is still no distortion._

The man cocked his head with a small smile, “Nothing to say this time?  You’ve finally figured out that you’re beaten?  You seem to be the leader of this group.  Are you ready to take responsibility for your actions?”

“I am,” Damian said softly.

The man’s smile grew a bit, “Good.  Just what I expected you to say.  I think you’re the inquisitive type.  In that case, I’ll allow you to ask three questions before we get down to the real deal.  Go ahead.”

Damian didn’t even have to stop to think before he asked, “How did you find us?”

The man’s smile grew into one of delight, “Very good.  That is the question of an investigator.  You _do_ have a brain in that head of yours.  That was a genius idea of a colleague of mine.  We added a tracking isotope to the tranquilizer.”

_Tracking isotope?  That means they can pick us up any time, anywhere.  They know who we are.  They have to, by now._

The man continued, his chin disappearing and reappearing as he stroked it with a hand, “Of course, we need to work on a better tracker.  The isotope wears off after five days, and we could never get it to combine with the Kryptonite.  Oh well, something to work towards.”

_Five days,_ Damian thought.  _That means the tracker has already worn off.  If I want to believe this guy, that is.  This is seven days after we were attacked.  Why did they wait two days after the tracker wore off to come for us?  This must be some form of deception._

Damian asked his next question, “Where did you get those suits?  Those things are amazing.  I’ve never seen image refraction done so perfectly.”

The man actually chuckled, “You like these, huh?  They come from a private manufacturer we acquired in…Aaah.  You almost got me there.  Let’s just say that a good friend of the cause makes them.  You have one more question, so make it a good one.”

Damian looked back at where Jai and Irey were still huddled together.  He looked back at the man and asked, “What did we ever do to you?  Why are you attacking the Justice League?”

The smile fell from the man’s face.  He snarled and pressed a button on the remote.  The heater coils activated in Damian’s collar, burning two circular patches into the sides of the teen’s neck.  “That was _two_ questions!  You have failed to abide by the rules of this exercise, so you have forced me to pull out the big guns.”

Damian cringed silently as the burn continued for another few seconds before ending.  The coils cooled quickly, but Damian could feel blood dripping down both sides of his neck.  _I think I preferred the electric shock to the burns,_ Damian thought.

“What big guns,” Damian ground out through gritted teeth.

The floating head rose as the man stood up again, “Those collars are technological marvels.  The two modes you’ve seen so far, burn and shock, are parlor tricks compared to the third mode.”

Damian heard a click and a whir from the collar around his neck, but that was it.  “What did that do,” the teen asked.

Damian heard Jai and Irey moan behind him.  He turned to see the twins looking absolutely miserable.  “What did you do to them?”

The man shook his head, “You damn Metas think you’re so superior to everyone else.  Well, now, you aren’t.  These collars target and suppress your Meta genes.  Your powers are gone.”

Damian’s eyes widened.  _No wonder I don’t feel anything.  That must be terrible for them.  Their bodies might not be able to cope with this._   “You made your point.  Turn it off; you’re going to kill them.”

The man gave an invisible shrug, “So what?  What’s two less Metas in the world?”

Damian stood quickly, his fists clenched tightly, “I said turn it off!”

“Or what?”

Damian saw red as he screamed and charged the area he figured the man’s body was.  The man’s eyes widened and he jabbed at buttons on his remote.  Damian’s neck burned again, but his anger burned hotter.  Damian hit the man center mass, tackling him to the floor.  The man was stunned, and Damian heard a clatter to his right.  Feeling around, Damian found the man’s still-invisible helmet.  _Huh, the helmet must have its own power supply to keep the cloaking field going._

Damian slipped his head into the helmet and smirked.  _I was right.  The helmet has built-in thermal goggles…Whoa!”_

As Damian saw his enemy in a new light, he quickly rolled out of the way of an invisible kick that was being aimed at his head.  There were two additional invisible attackers in the room.  Damian rolled over his first victim and grabbed his tranquilizer gun on the way by.  Surprising to Damian, the gun became visible when it was disconnected from the suit.  Continuing his roll, Damian put three darts into the chest of his attacker.

He winced as he turned to locate the third man.  _I’ve got to get this collar off before it burns straight through my neck._

Distracted by the pain, it took Damian a second to realize that the two quick taps on the back of his helmet were darts bouncing off the back of his head.  Damian turned and shot twice more, dropping the last of his attackers.

Damian collapsed to the ground, the pain finally overtaking him.  Crawling over to his first victim, Damian picked up the remote, which turned out to be a PDA showing the status of all three collars.  He quickly pushed the three buttons labeled ‘off’, and sighed deeply as the heater coils deactivated and cooled against his neck.  Looking over at the twins, he noticed they had stopped moaning and had stilled.

A rustle from behind Damian caught his attention as his first attacker started moving again.  Damian kneeled at the man’s side and waited until he knew the man was seeing him and snarled, “Not good enough.”

The man shook his head, “How did you fight through the collar?  That was supposed to immobilize you.”

“The collar suppresses Meta genes, right,” Damian asked.

“Y-yeah,” the man said nervously.

Damian removed the helmet and snarled at the downed man, “I’m not a Meta.”

The man gasped, “Impossible!  We were told that all of you so-called heroes were Metas.”

“You were told wrong,” Damian said, bringing his elbow smashing down on the man’s face.  Damian flattened the man’s nose and rendered him unconscious.  Damian sighed as he shot the man with two darts, to ensure he stayed unconscious.

Damian put the helmet back on to find his other attackers.  He staggered over and removed the helmets of one man and one woman, so they could be found later.  Damian then searched the rest of the room and the office for other invisible threats.  Finding nothing, Damian returned to the twins.  Pulling the PDA out of his pocket again, Damian pressed a button marked ‘unlock’.  He pulled at the collar, then hissed in pain as the coils tried to pull the skin off of his neck that had melted and fused with the coil.  Working slowly, Damian peeled the collar from around his neck, wincing and biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Damian dropped the collar, knelt between the twins and gently removed their collars.  “How do you feel?”

Jai looked up with a scared look on his face, “Is it over?”

Damian looked around the room again before saying, “It’s over.”

“That was terrible,” Irey said, “it felt like my heart was going to stop.”

Damian sighed, “In a way, it was.  They found a way to dampen Meta genes.  In your case, it slowed your body down to human normal levels.”

Jai cringed, “You mean, you feel like this all the time?”

“No,” Damian said, shaking his head, “This is how my body always functions, so I’m used to it and it’s normal for me.  It’s not normal for you, which is why you felt like you were drowning.”

Jai’s eyes widened, “That’s exactly what it felt like.”

Damian nodded, “I thought it might.  It’s over now, though.”

Irey looked at the teen and said, “Can you take the helmet off?  It’s a little strange talking to you when you don’t have a head.”

Damian smiled as he dropped the helmet.  The twins sat up quickly and both hugged Damian tightly.  They were surprised when Damian returned the hug, just as tightly.

Damian sniffled and said softly, “I’m sorry, you two.  I’m sorry I couldn’t do a better job protecting you.”

“It’s not your fault, D,” Irey said, “If we knew this was going to happen, Dad never would have gone to work today.”

“You did everything you could, man,” Jai said.  “We’re going to make sure everybody knows about it, too.  If it was up to us, I and me would still be tied up in the corner.”

Damian took a deep breath and pulled back to look at the twins, “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

The twins nodded, then Irey hissed, “Your neck looks terrible.”

“I’m sure it does,” Damian said, checking out the healing wounds to the youth’s necks, “Can’t be helped right now.  Search the bodies to see if you can find a phone.”

“What bodies,” Jai asked.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Choose a head, feel lower, find something useful.  I guarantee there are bodies attached to the heads.”

Five minutes later, Damian smiled as Irey hurried over clutching a cell phone.  “Good job, I.  Now we can get out of here.”

“Are you going to call our parents,” Jai asked hopefully.

Damian shook his head, wincing as his wounds stretched, “Not directly.”

“Why not,” Irey asked.

“Because they won’t answer.”  Seeing the confused looks on the twin’s faces, Damian continued, “By now, anyone we might call won’t have their phones on them.  Your Father will have already responded to the alarm at your house and found us missing.  I’m pretty sure he will have found our phones.  I don’t have mine, and you two already told me you don’t have yours.  If these people were smart, they would have left the phones at your house.  Your Father will have found us missing and will go straight to the Manor, and my Father.  Father will mobilize the Justice League to find us.  Therefore, all the people we are looking for are not to be found by phone, but on comms.”

Jai’s jaw dropped, “Can you call into the comm channels from a cell phone?”

“Not exactly, but I can get close.”

Damian dialed a number that Bruce had him memorize as soon as he had been given permanent security clearance.  The call was answered immediately by a familiar voice, “Operator.”

Damian smiled, _Tim.  Just who I was hoping for._   “Security interlock, code Bravo Delta 4-1-9.”

A click sounded, “Line is secure.  Verify identification.”

“B-30.  Code nine-uniform-three.”

Red Robin sighed, “Where the hell are you, Robin?”

Damian sighed, “I wish I knew.  These damn invisible bastards and their tranquilizers.”

“Are you okay?”

“Minor injuries to myself, F-1, and F-2.  I have three in custody.”

Red Robin smiled, “I told Batman you would get yourself out on your own.  What’s your location, so I can send the League?”

Damian shrugged, “Can’t you track the phone?”

Damian could hear a flurry of keystrokes, “No.  Location services are turned off on the phone you’re using.  I take it you appropriated that from one of your captors?”

“That’s right,” Damian said, searching for the right item in the cell phone’s settings.  “There.  Try it now.”

“Scanning…there you are.  You’re in a warehouse, about ten miles from where you’re supposed to be.  I’m transmitting your coordinates to the League.  They should be there in about ten minutes.”

“Who’s coming,” Damian asked.

“Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Flash, Superman, and Wonder Woman,” Red Robin said, “We’ve also got Green Lantern, Green Arrow, and Arsenal on stand-by.  You aren’t helping anyone’s weekend plans, you know.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “This wasn’t exactly on my schedule, either.  Um, are you coming, too?”

_I recognize that tone,_ Red Robin thought.  “If I’m needed.  Why?”

Damian turned around, “There’s a computer server here.  It could tell us a lot about these guys.  We also have three captives, and they are all wearing the photo-reflective suits.  They’re just as good up close as they are on video.”

Red Robin smiled, “I’ll see if I can get Cyborg to cover for me up here, and I’ll head over.  Keep this line open until the League arrives.”

“Okay,” Damian said.  Damian turned to the twins and said, “They’re on their way.  Just a few more minutes.”

The twins sighed heavily, and Damian walked back to the kids and said softly, “You’re doing great.  This will all be over soon.”

Jai looked down, “ _You’re_ doing great.  _We_ were almost useless.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jai glanced up, “You knew how to do all this stuff to get us out.  We didn’t do anything.”

Damian shook his head, “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” Jai said, “You kicked their asses.  We cowered on the floor.”

Damian sighed, “J, what did we talk about this morning?  Team roles, right?”  Jai nodded and Damian continued, “Do you think I would have been as careful if I didn’t have to look out for you two?  I did what I did because they were hurting you.  If the roles were reversed, I know you two would have jumped in to save me.  I have no doubt about that.”

“How did you know how to do all that stuff,” Irey asked.

Damian smirked, “I’ve been training since I was a fetus.”

Jai sighed, “Okay, you were trying to look out for us, and we’re grateful for that.  This morning you said our role was to teach you to act like a kid.  How did we do that here?”

Damian shook his head, “Not to act like a kid, but to act more humanely.  You’ve already helped with that.  If we weren’t friends, I wouldn’t have hurt for your pain.”

“What does that mean,” Irey asked.

Damian glanced back at the still-unconscious thugs, “They explained to me what was happening to you.  It hurt me to see you two in such pain.  I had to make it stop.”

Jai and Irey both hugged Damian again.  Red Robin, who was still listening to the open phone line, smiled at the interaction.  _Good job, Little Brother.  You’re getting really good at this._

Damian looked at the device in his hand, remembering that Red Robin was still listening.  Damian thought, _oh well.  They’re my friends.  This is what everyone wanted.  Tim understands what’s going on; he had his own team._

Damian put the phone to his ear again, “Hey, Red Robin, can you remind the League that the scene is secure?  They can just walk in.  They don’t have to plan some elaborate infiltration.”

“I’ll remind them,” Red Robin said with a chuckle.

_Five Minutes Later…_

Irey gasped as a side door opened into the warehouse.  Damian and Jai were instantly on their guard as no one entered the space for several seconds.  Damian was wishing he hadn’t dropped the invisible helmet.  He couldn’t remember where it was.

Superman and Wonder Woman entered first, as if they expected to be attacked upon entry.  They were followed by Flash, Nightwing, and Red Hood.  Damian cocked his head at the absence of Batman before rolling his eyes and looking up.

Damian caught a skylight closing in the ceiling and called out, “Didn’t you get the all clear message from Red Robin, Father?”

The Bat dropped from the ceiling as Nightwing said, “You know that Batman is too good for normal doors.”

“I’m a little disappointed you didn’t detect me earlier,” Batman said, “Would you care to explain why you decapitated your victims?”

Damian’s stare grew icy, “You know me better than that, Father.”

The room froze at Damian’s tone.  Damian looked around before pointing at the office in the corner.  “In there,” he snarled.

Damian stalked off, followed closely by Batman.  Closing the door behind him, Batman said, “Son…”

Damian cut him off.  His voice was quiet, but his intensity filled the room.  “I don’t do that, Father.  Not anymore.  I don’t intentionally kill.  Why would an accusation of that be the first thing out of your mouth today?”

Batman walked up behind Damian and said softly, “We got Red Robin’s update.  He told us about your prisoners in the cloaking suits.  I know you didn’t kill them.”

Damian turned, and Batman was surprised at the tears coursing down his son’s cheeks.  Damian threw himself at Batman and held on tight to his armored father.

“Why does this keep happening?  These people can track us and capture us and kill us, and we still don’t know who the hell they are!  I want to go home, Dad.  I want this to be over.”

Batman started in shock, “Who did they kill?”

Damian sniffled, “Well, no one, yet, but they tried today, and they said that was their goal.”

Batman stripped off one of his gauntlets and massaged the back of Damian’s neck.  Damian cringed, and that is when Batman noticed the still-oozing wounds to Damian’s neck.  Batman took a closer look and whispered, “What happened?”

Damian sniffled again and pulled himself tight into Batman again.  “Not now,” the teen whispered.

Batman moved his bare hand up to the back of Damian’s head and held the teen possessively.  _That looks like a lot more than the minor injuries that he reported to Red Robin.  I’m going to have to call Leslie out on this one.  These people are going down.  It’s our turn to hunt them down now._

When Damian had calmed, Batman looked at his son’s face and asked, “Are you ready now?”

Damian picked up Batman’s discarded gauntlet in his right hand and grabbed Batman’s bare hand with his left.  Looking up nervously, Damian asked, “Is this okay?”

Batman took a deep breath and watched as his son wiped at his eyes, “It’s okay.”

The Dynamic Duo returned to the warehouse, and Batman could feel all eyes in the room focused on his hand, entwined with his son’s.  Batman sighed and said, “Where are we?”

The tone of the Dark Knight’s voice brooked no question of the current state of affairs.  Superman shook himself and said, “I was just dividing up the jobs of what we need to do here.  Batman, you and Flash take the kids back to the cave for debriefing.  Red Robin will be here soon to go over this server.  Nightwing, you and Red Hood handle the prisoners.  Get them out of those suits and lock them up somewhere.  Wonder Woman and I will process the scene and assist Red Robin as needed.”

The group started to break up when Damian said, “No.”

The room froze again as Batman looked down at his son, “No?”

Damian shook his head and looked up at his cowled father, “No.  We debrief here.  I talked to one of our captors a bit.  You’re all going to want to hear what I found out.  And, depending on the accuracy of his statements, until we know more, Flash, the twins, and I, can’t go home.”

Superman approached cautiously, “What do you mean, you can’t go home?”

“Not until we’re sure they can’t find us again,” Damian said, turning to look at the Man of Steel.

Superman looked around and said, “Nightwing, bring those chairs over here.  Okay, we debrief here.  What did he tell you?”

Nightwing brought two chairs over, the only ones he could find.  Batman motioned for Damian to sit down, but he wouldn’t until Batman sat first.  Damian then climbed into the man’s lap.  Nightwing and Red Hood could make out the slight blush in what was visible of Batman’s face.  Flash took the other chair and pulled his own kids into his lap.  He didn’t have to pull too hard to get one twin on each knee.

Damian looked at the floor between the chairs, “He thought he had us beat, with those damn collars.  He figured we were powerless.  He started talking about what was going on here.”

Superman held up one of the devices, “You mean these collars?”

Damian winced at the sight of the device, “Yes, those.  He had them on all three of us.”

“Who is he,” Wonder Woman asked.

Damian looked off at the prisoners, “The bald one.  He’s the only one who talked.  He got cocky and started telling us too much.  He let me ask three questions before we got started.  I don’t know what was going to get started; we didn’t get that far.  My first question was how they found us.  He said they mixed a tracking isotope into the tranquilizer.”

Superman’s eyes widened, “We never considered something like that.  That means we’re all in danger.  Why did you only mention you three kids and Flash?  Why not me and Superboy?”

Damian shook his head, “He said that the Kryptonite canceled out the tracking isotope.  I don’t know if I believe him, but he didn’t come after you.  He also said the isotope wears off after five days.”

Flash cocked his head, “If it wears off after five days, then why can’t any of us go home?”

Damian met Flash’s eyes, “Because my team was attacked seven days ago, and we were taken today.  Why wait until after the tracker stops working to make their move?”

Batman looked up at Superman.  They both nodded and Superman said, “I’ll call J’onn and have him bring a field kit.  We can test them here to make sure it’s out of their system.”

Damian said, “Don’t forget to test Speedy.  She was hit, too.”

Red Hood said, “I’ll make the call.  Maybe Arsenal can bring her here.”

Batman’s look grew increasingly dangerous, and Wonder Woman asked, “What is it, Batman?”

Damian sighed, “He’s realizing something I thought of about an hour ago.  If this group is smart, they tracked our movements over the last week, looking for the best place to try their kidnapping plot.  If they put in just the smallest bit of work, then they have our home addresses…and our identities.”

Red Robin walked into the warehouse to find the atmosphere tense and quiet.  Walking up to the computer, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Batman and Damian stood and gave their chair to Red Robin.  Batman said, “Break down that computer system.  I want to know everything they know about us, and I want to know who else knows.  They’ve been tracking the kids since the attack.  I need to know what sort of information they have been able to collect, and I need it now.”

Red Robin had learned long ago to not ask questions when Batman used that tone of voice.  He sat down and started typing.

Superman asked, “I take it that is the important part of the debriefing?”

Damian shook his head, “No, just one of them.”

“Start from the top,” Batman said.

Damian took a deep breath, “They took us just after we finished lunch.  We were watching a movie when the alarm went off.  They were already in the house.  I assume, at least.  They were invisible.  We woke up here, tied up in that far corner.  Hogtied, handcuffed, and blindfolded.  We were able to get out of those.  We started to look into getting the collars off, and that’s when they made their presence known.  Well, the bald one did.  The other two didn’t until later.  The collars are torture devices for Metas.”

“How do they work,” Superman asked, staring warily at the device in his hand.

Damian’s next breath was a shaky one as he looked at the kids.  He pulled the remote out of his pocket and handed it to Superman.  “That controls the collars.  They are attached through magnetic locks, I think.  He said we wouldn’t be able to get out of them on our own.  I didn’t get a chance to try before he started showing us the different modes.  Mode one is heat.  There are two heating coils on the sides.  They get…pretty hot.”

Superman looked up from the collar to the teen, “Do I want to ask?”

Damian turned his head and pulled his shirt collar aside to show the spots on his neck.  Wonder Woman gasped, and Damian could hear Batman grinding his teeth.

“I think J’s neck has already healed up from that,” Damian said.  Flash took a closer look before nodding and hugging his son tightly.

Damian looked down, “Mode two is shock.  That was…pretty effective, too.”

Superman looked at the taser prongs set near the heating coils and sighed.

Damian said, “We all got that one a couple times, but I don’t think it left any marks.”

Batman forced Damian’s head to the side to make sure.  His hands gripped the teen’s shoulders tightly.

“Mode three might be the worst of all.”

Superman looked at the remote and said, “Suppress?  What does that do?”

Damian leaned back into his father, “To me, nothing.  I think it almost killed the twins, though.”  The group gasped as Damian continued, “They have found a way to scan for and isolate Meta genes.  Suppress mode does just that.  It blocks Meta genes, effectively canceling out your powers.”

The room fell silent as Flash pulled both of his kids in for a tight hug.  Irey spoke quietly, “It was scary.  I thought I was dying.  We couldn’t move.  We could barely breathe.”

“I-I couldn’t stand seeing that.  I had to stop it.  There was nothing they could do to me that was as bad as what they were doing to them, so I had no reason to let a little pain stop me from ending their suffering.”

_A little pain,_ Wonder Woman thought, _I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t need skin grafts to fix those wounds to his neck.  He put up with that to save his friends.  He is definitely the son of Batman._

“You said you asked them some questions,” Batman said, “What were the other two questions you asked?”

Damian had to take a breath before he could answer, “I asked about the suits.  He didn’t tell me where they got them, but he did say that they are custom made by someone working for their cause.  My last question was why they were targeting the League.  Unfortunately, I phrased it as two questions.  He used that as an excuse to begin his last round of torture.”

_How can he talk so matter-of-factly about being tortured,_ Superman thought to himself.  _Yes, he’s been tortured several times.  I’ve even seen him directly after one of those times.  Has it happened so many times in his life that he’s just numb to it?  I hope he’s taking the counseling with Black Canary seriously, because I’m thinking we’ve only scratched the surface of his history._

“Did you learn anything else from the man,” Superman asked, getting ready to send the kids to get some much-deserved rest.

Damian nodded, “Yes, one last thing.  He, and possibly his whole group, think the Justice League is comprised completely of super-powered beings.  It appeared to be the biggest shock of this man’s life when I told him that I am not a Meta.  That’s the whole reason they didn’t bother restraining us again after we got out of the handcuffs.  He thought the collars were all they needed.  Whoever these people are, they are in this to eradicate Metas from the planet.  When I told him that I thought the suppress mode was killing the twins, he made it seem like that was his goal all along.”

Martian Manhunter entered the warehouse and started scanning the kids for residual traces of the tracking compound.  Nightwing and Red Hood busied themselves with stripping the photo-reflective suits from the prisoners before arranging to have them taken to a holding facility for interrogation.

Red Robin waved Batman over to the computer server.  Batman stood behind his third son and asked, “What have you found?”

Red Robin took a deep breath, “A lot.  I mean, _a lot._   This is going to take days to go through.  There are fifty terabytes of data here, including this.”

Red Robin brought up a video feed, showing the Justice League standing around the computer.  Batman asked, “Video surveillance?”

“Covering the whole warehouse.  Fortunately, the system is recording, not broadcasting.  Before you asked, I already checked.  This server isn’t sending data anywhere.  It hasn’t sent data out since before the first attack last week.”

“Where would it send data,” Batman asked.

Red Robin turned in his chair to directly address the core of the Justice League, “To the main servers of Pure Earth in South Vietnam.”

Superman’s eyes widened, “The group you briefed us about earlier in the week?”

“The same,” Red Robin said, nodding.

“You’re sure,” Batman asked.

Tim brought up the desktop.  The wallpaper was a picture of the Earth with the words Pure Earth under it.  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Wonder Woman looked at the men surrounding her and said, “That’s step one completed.  Now we know who we are up against.”

“Now we just have to figure out what the League did to piss them off,” Damian said.

Nightwing walked up to the group, “We’re ready to transport the prisoners.  We’ll see you later.”

“Be careful,” Superman said.

“Report in when they are secure,” Batman said.

“Will do,” Nightwing said, leaving the group.

Batman looked back at Red Robin, “Disable the security system in here, then get this server transported to the Watchtower.  It’s not enough to just copy and wipe the data this time.”

Red Robin nodded, “Like I said, it will take days, if not weeks, to go through everything on here.”

“It will be worth it,” Superman said.  “Get Cyborg to help you sift through the data.”

“I was going to,” Red Robin said.

Martian Manhunter approached the group and said, “I can find no traces of any tracking isotopes in the children.  They are clear.”

Flash sighed in relief, “That’s good to hear.”

“You can take them home now, Flash,” Superman said.

Flash nodded, “Yes, but I’m not sure I want to.”

Batman nodded, like he had been expecting Flash to say that.  “Take them home.  Robin and I will be there to use your Zeta Tube to get back to the cave.  You can come back with us if you don’t feel your home is safe enough right now.”

_Did Batman just offer to let us stay at the Manor?_   “Thanks.  That’s…that’s going to be a load off of my mind, actually.  Maybe just for the night?”

“We’ll see how it goes,” Batman said.

“We’ll be ready when you two get there,” Flash said before the three speedsters disappeared from the warehouse.

Martian Manhunter turned to Damian and said, “I can treat your injuries here, if you will allow me.”

Batman patted Damian’s back and said softly, “Go on, kiddo.”

Damian nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

_Later That Night…_

Bruce sighed as he leaned back in his computer chair in the cave and turned off the video replay.  He had Tim download the security video from the warehouse to the Bat computer before the server was taken to the Watchtower, and had just finished his fifth viewing of events.

A soft noise sounded from close to the chair, “It’s not pretty, is it, Father?”

_How long has he been standing there?_   “No, it’s not.  Those collars seemed to be, um, very effective.”

Bruce turned the chair to look at his son.  He tried to hide the wince as the white gauze squares on either side of the boy’s neck caught the light in the cave.

“They were,” Damian said in a haunted voice.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, or spending time with your friends?”

True to his word, Wally and the kids were ready to go when Batman and Damian arrived at the West residence.  Wally had even had Linda change her return ticket to arrive at Gotham International Airport in the morning.

Damian crawled into Bruce’s lap and said, “West and the twins are asleep.  Shouldn’t you be in bed, too?”

Bruce wrapped his arms around Damian tightly, “Yes, I probably should.  Tomorrow’s Sunday; we can sleep in.  Why are you down here, instead of upstairs?  I’m sure Dick wants to smother you a bit.”

The corner of Damian’s lips hitched up, “He did that earlier.  I wanted to talk to you about today.”

Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry you thought I was accusing you of murder.”

“I didn’t appreciate that, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”  Damian closed his eyes as he laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“The fact that it took four and a half hours to find us.”

Bruce winced, “Those Pure Earth guys did a good job of covering their tracks.  I’m afraid that we might be still looking for you if you weren’t so proactive in your own cause.”

Damian was shaking lightly at the thought Bruce had just put in his head.  His voice wavered as he said, “This can never happen again.  Is it okay to admit that I was scared today?”

Bruce kissed the top of Damian’s head, “It’s okay.  You were scared, but you put that aside for the good of your friends.  You made me so proud today.”

“I want to keep doing that, but the only way I can keep doing that is if we are together.”  Damian looked up seriously, “I want you to be able to find me no matter where I am, no matter what I have on me.”

“What are you saying, son,” Bruce asked, matching the serious tone.

Damian took a deep breath, “I want you to implant a subcutaneous tracker on me.  If something like today ever happens again, I want you to know where to find me.”

Bruce swallowed, “Are you sure about this, son?”

Damian held out his arm and said, “I’m surprised you didn’t insist on this before.”

Bruce nodded and walked away.  Walking back with what appeared to be a silver gun in his hand, Bruce said, “I’ll only ever activate it if you are missing.  I value your privacy, son.”

“As do I,” Damian said, “but I would rather not be forcibly separated from you again.”

Bruce’s heart melted a bit at that as he pressed the gun to Damian’s arm and injected a tracker chip into his son.  Damian gave a warm smile as he rubbed at the injection site.  Bruce wiped a drop of blood from Damian’s arm before putting a band-aid over the small puncture.

Bruce hugged his son tightly and said softly, “Let’s go to bed, son.”

 

**A/N:  Well, now we know who the bad guys are.  Stay tuned for their motivations to be revealed, and for the aggression to escalate.  Thanks to TAMBRAI for the idea of the villain.  I’m not exactly using your idea, at least, not right now.  It will get closer to the outline you sent me as the chapters go on, though.  Just know, everybody, we might know the organization, but we don’t know the mastermind yet.**

**So, I stole the power-dampening collar idea from an episode of Young Justice.  I don’t remember the episode title, but it’s out there somewhere.  I haven’t decided if they will be used again, but I think they were a good obstacle for our heroes in this chapter.**

**Oh, and yes, it is possible to open a pair of handcuffs with a straw.  I haven’t done it myself, but the theory behind it is sound.**

**Let me know what you think of what has been released so far.  Your comments really make my day.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	11. 11

Hero Hunt

Chapter 11

 

_Monday_

“Are you feeling better, Timothy?”

Tim stopped in the middle of the cave after returning from the Watchtower on Monday afternoon.  Bruce turned his computer chair to face his third son expectantly.

Tim looked at Bruce in confusion,” What are you talking about, Bruce?  I feel fine.”

Bruce sighed, “You called in sick to work today.  You haven’t been home since you and Cyborg took the server to the Watchtower.  Have you slept at all since Saturday?”

Tim gave a small smile, “I got a couple hours Sunday afternoon.  It was worth it, though.”

Bruce nodded, “Did you find anything interesting?”

Tim walked over and pulled up a chair next to Bruce’s, “Oh, Bruce.  You have no idea.  This has the potential to blow our entire case wide open.  Damian getting kidnapped might be the best thing to happen to this case.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “You better not let him hear you say that.”

Tim cringed, imagining the reaction, “You’re probably right.  How is he since the rescue?  He hid it well, but I know he was pretty shaken up when he called me on Saturday.  The image of Damian holding hands with Batman is one the League won’t forget anytime soon.”

Bruce released a slow breath, “He’s getting better.  His protector nature is starting to show.”

Tim cocked his head, “What do you mean?”

Bruce looked down at his lap, “We all think of Damian’s early training as all battle and killing, but we forget that he was taught all of that for one purpose.  Damian was bred to be The Demon’s Fist, the main protector and last line of defense for Ra’s Al Ghul.  He has a strong sense of protection and guarding.  That’s why he was saying he should be replaced as the leader of his team last week.  He wants his friends to be safe, even if it means finding someone better suited to the task.  Damian spent Saturday night sitting in a chair in the corner of the guest room, making sure the Wests were safe.”

Tim smiled at the news, “You’re kidding.”

Bruce shook his head, “I’m not.  Alfred put him to bed around five.  He slept until noon, then spent the day with the kids.  Sunday night, he sat in the hall outside of the guest room again.  I brought him to bed with me around three.”

Tim shook his head slowly, “That kid impresses me sometimes.  What did Wally say about the guard?”

“Damian asked that the Wests not be told,” Bruce said, “As far as I know, they don’t know a thing about it.”

Tim gave a pleased smile, “What can we say?  He’s grown.”

“So much, Tim,” Bruce said happily, “So much.  Now, what did you find on the server?”

Tim took a seat next to Bruce, “Well, Cyborg is still going through everything.  There is a huge amount of data on that computer, but I’ll get to the most important parts first.  Number one, yes, we are dealing with Pure Earth, the anti-meta group I found on the Dark Web.  They found the kids through the tracking isotope.  There are a bunch of records of experiments of them trying to incorporate the isotope with various substances.  The good news is that we have a chemical breakdown of the isotope.  I gave it to Martian Manhunter.  He is going to see if he can come up with a mixture to neutralize the isotope.  He said he’s call Wally in to help if he needed him.

“Now, the bad news.  Everyone who was hit with the tracking isotope on the training trip was listed in the system.  Every location visited in the five days of effectiveness, and the isotope really does wear off after five days, was recorded.  Addresses were listed, along with identities.”

“Damn it,” Bruce muttered.

Tim shook his head, “I know.  It’s not ideal, but it’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”

“How is it not bad,” Bruce spat.

“No, it’s bad, but it could be far worse,” Tim said before pausing to collect his thoughts.  “I learned a lot from this server.  For example, Pure Earth maintains six cells around the planet; one on each continent except for Antarctica.  That warehouse was the headquarters for the North American cell.”

“Where were the rest of the members,” Bruce asked, “I refuse to believe there were only three people working for Pure Earth in all of North America.”

Tim said, “We already know that there are more, Bruce.  Remember, there were six in the group that attacked the kids.  The rest are scattered around the country.  There are a couple more in the area that we didn’t get, but for the most part, their members are congregated on the coasts.”

Bruce shook his head, “I still don’t see how this isn’t as bad as I think it is.”

Tim gave a small smile, “This server has been giving Pure Earth some problems lately.  It has been down for maintenance five times in the past month, and it was scheduled for another service yesterday.  I checked the computer’s internal service logs for this information.”

“What does that mean,” Bruce asked curiously.

Tim’s smile grew, “It seems that Pure Earth servers are supposed to back up to their mainframe once a week.  This server hasn’t connected with anyone or anything for the last month.  All of the information they found regarding our location and identities is now in our custody.”

Bruce sighed in relief, “Is there any way to tell how far that information might have spread outside of the server?”

Tim shook his head, “No, but it isn’t going to spread any farther, and it’s out of their hands now.”

“That _is_ good news, Tim.”

Tim nodded in agreement, “We also have the locations of other Pure Earth cells around the globe, including their main headquarters in Vietnam.”

Bruce nodded, “Good.  It looks like we’re making progress.  Now we have something to present to the U.N. tomorrow.”

Tim’s eyes widened, “Clark was able to get you on the schedule?”

Bruce sighed, “The Justice League was already on the schedule, as a topic, not a presenter.  The United Nations has something to discuss regarding us that we weren’t notified of.  I’m a bit apprehensive about what this means for us.”

Tim swallowed hard, “Is it going to be just you, Clark, and Diana?”

Bruce nodded, “Yes.  Dick was the smart one, and said he didn’t want to go.”

Tim gave a slow now, “Well, I might have another point of discussion for you to bring up.  Remember the Chinese satellite that was over the Midwest on Saturday?  It seems that satellite wasn’t overhead out of coincidence.  Pure Earth is run out of south Vietnam, but they have many partners and affiliates in the north.  There are several mentions of Chinese contacts in the files on the server.  I think that satellite was where it was specifically at Pure Earth’s request.”

Bruce leaned forward, “Can you prove that?”

Tim sighed, “No, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable betting against it.”

Bruce sighed, “Two steps forward, one step back.”

Tim looked down, “I know it feels that way, Bruce, but we really are learning a lot about them.”

“Do we know how to stop them,” Bruce asked.

“They’re activists, Bruce, not terrorists.”

Bruce’s eyes flashed angrily, “They kidnapped your brother, tortured him, and attempted to murder his friends.  Their stated purpose is to purge the planet of Metas.  What, exactly, out of all that, doesn’t qualify them as terrorists in your book?”

Tim shook his head, “No.  See, Bruce, they think they’re the heroes.  They think they are on the right side in all of this, like those Antifa idiots who got ran out of town last month.  In their eyes, the world will be a better place if they get their way.”

Bruce thought for a minute, “When you put it that way, it just makes me want to smash them even more.”

“I know,” Tim said, “Me, too.  We’ll get there, Bruce.”

Bruce wiped a hand down his face and asked, “Did Green Arrow get anything from interrogating those three people Damian captured?”

Tim shook his head, “I didn’t check, but I did see that he requested Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter to have a crack at them.”

Bruce nodded, “So, either he got nothing, or he got something and wants to verify it before bringing it to the whole League.”

“Sounds about right,” Tim said, yawning.  “What time is the U.N. meeting tomorrow?”

Bruce smiled at his tired third son, “Eleven.  Come on, let’s get you upstairs.  It’s time for dinner, then we’ll get you in bed.  It’s long past your bedtime, son.”

Tim smiled as he stood up, “It’s not even seven yet.”

Bruce matched the smile as he threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders, “I meant from last night, and the night before.”

_Tuesday…_

Clark had always loved big cities.  Growing up on a farm in Kansas left him with great hometown memories, but the first time he saw the skyscrapers of Metropolis on a school field trip, he was hooked.  He loved the way the steel structures reached for the sky, and the way the sun glinted off of the glass.  He first saw the sights of a big city around the same time he was learning how to fly, and the thought of making it to the top of one of those amazing buildings just to be able to look around filled him with a mixture of excitement and contentment.

If Metropolis had taken his breath away, the first time he saw New York City had nearly made him swoon.  It didn’t matter if the streets were grimy, the people were rude, and everything was overpriced, the buildings and the architecture more than made up for the experience.  If Clark hadn’t already been making a life for himself in Metropolis the first time he was sent to New York on an assignment, he would have given up everything to move to the city.

Despite his love of the city and the architecture, the United Nations Headquarters building had never really impressed him.  Clark had always been attracted to the towering heights of the skyscrapers, and the U.N. building just didn’t have that.  To him, it was just…plain.  It was an impressive piece of architecture, to be sure, but it had never wowed Clark in the way the Empire State Building or the Chrysler Building had.

Maybe that was why Clark was having mixed feelings about today’s meeting with the United Nations’ Security Council.

Or, maybe it was the crowd of protestors outside of the building.

Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman arrived at the U.N. complex an hour earlier than their scheduled time.  It was a good thing, too, because it looked like it might take that whole hour just to make it past the angry crowd and into the building.  United Nations security and New York police were having trouble holding back the mass of humanity in front of the building.  They were holding signs and banging drums and yelling their rhetoric across the flag pavilion.

Most disturbing to the Justice League representatives was the fact that all of the signs and slogans were against the Justice League.

Hundreds upon hundreds of people lined the walkway where the League members had to walk to enter the building.  At the sight of the three heroes, the mob erupted into chants of ‘no more supers’, ‘you’re not my hero’, and ‘go home’.  The signs were just as bad.  Most were just the same slogans written out, but others showed the various logos of the Leaguers with thick red lines through them, or more sinister images of heroes on fire, hung from trees or crosses, or beheaded in bloody effigy.

Superman leaned over to Wonder Woman and asked, “Did you know that we were this hated?”

Wonder Woman shook her head, “There has always been some resentment, but never this outright hostility.”

Batman asked, “How many of these people actually feel this, and how many are here just to have something to protest?”

Wonder Woman looked around the hostile crowd, surprised at what she felt, “It actually is evenly split.”

“How did you know,” Superman asked.

“Something Red Robin said yesterday.  He compared them to those useless demonstrators you keep seeing on the news.  The sound and the fury, signifying nothing.”

Superman shrugged, “I guess that’s one way to think about them.  Come on, there’s our liaison.”

The three heroes were led into a waiting room and told that they would be summoned for their appointed time.

Superman sighed as the door was closed behind their liaison, “How do we want to play this?”

“Let them talk first,” Batman said, “We need to find out what they know and what they are doing before we tip our hand.”

Wonder Woman nodded, “I assumed they would talk first anyway.  Given the crowd outside, and some of the feelings inside the building, I think we’re in for an uphill fight for them to even listen to us.”

Superman looked at the woman strangely, “Can you tell what their problem with us is?  We’ve always been notified when we’re on the docket, even if the topic doesn’t require our presence.  What changed this time?”

Wonder Woman thought for a second, “Whatever it is, it has created a lot of animosity among the delegates.  Something extremely personal to many of the delegates seems to be held against us.”

The door to the waiting room opened and the Leaguers were beckoned to follow their liaison to the security council chamber.  Batman said, “Whatever it is, I’m sure we’re about to find out.”

The Justice League representatives were led to the security council chamber and placed in the center, with U.N. delegates surrounding them on three sides.  Batman was immediately on guard at the adversarial nature found in the large room.

Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman all ignored the table and chairs that had been set out for them as the announcer called out, “Delegates, the Justice League.”

Superman opened his mouth to offer some sort of pleasantry and gratitude for being seen on such short notice, but was interrupted before he could get a word out.

The delegate from Canada stood and spoke, “It was my understanding that these were private discussions today.”

The Secretary General shook his head, “They were, but we were contacted by Superman.  These representatives from the Justice League have something to present.”

The Canadian spoke again, “Does their presentation have anything to do with the allegations of child abuse and endangerment being filed against them?”

Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman all nearly jumped in shock at the declaration.  Superman spoke up loudly, “What is the meaning of this?  What allegations?”

The Secretary General called for order before saying, “It has come to our attention that the Justice League is using children in your operations.  This is clearly child endangerment, and a violation of your own foundation charter.”

“Preparing for the future safety of the world does not violate our charter in any way,” Wonder Woman said.

“These are serious allegations,” Batman said, “However, none of our operations in any way involve child abuse.”

The German delegate shook his head and said, “I would be careful if I were you, Batman.  You have the longest history of involving children in your crusade out of any of your Justice Leaguers.  Can you honestly say that none of your operations could endanger the welfare of those children?  Your…Robin, for example.”

“What about him,” Batman growled.

The delegate didn’t answer.  The French delegate spoke up instead, “Do you deny that you have formed a paramilitary force consisting entirely of children?”

Superman narrowed his eyes, “Define paramilitary.”

The French woman spoke again, “So you don’t deny that you have formed a group of children to carry out your whims?”

Wonder Woman stopped the men from speaking before saying, “There is a big difference between training and carrying out operations.  Yes, we have a training group.  They have carried out no field operations, though.”

The Chinese delegate said, “Are you sure you want to put it that way?”

Superman shook his head and took a step forward, “Do any of you have children?”  Most of the delegates nodded or gave some sort of affirmative response.  Superman continued, “Did any of you have to teach your children how to read, or how to tie their shoes?  How many of you taught your children right from wrong?  How many of you encouraged your children to make the world better than the one you inherited?  None of you would be delegates to the United Nations if you didn’t want to work on making the world a better place.  We all do this for the children.  Our approach is a little more hands-on than yours, but the goal is the same.  What you described as a paramilitary force, we describe as a training group.  We aren’t deluded enough to believe that we can solve all of the world’s problems.  We know that the next generation will inherit the ills of the world that we can’t fix.  I do not feel guilty in the least in preparing my son to deal with what is coming in the future.”

“What if your son doesn’t want to live your life,” the German delegate asked.

“He doesn’t have to,” Superman said, “but if he chooses to, it would be irresponsible not to give him the best training I can.”

The delegates murmured, thinking about and discussing what Superman had just said.  For a lot of them, it justified the formation of the training team.

The Secretary General called for order again and said, “Superman, you have requested to come before us today.  Please, state your business.”

Superman nodded and collected his thoughts for a second before starting in.  “With as little as we wanted to bring up the training group today, they actually have a lot to do with why we’re here today.  We are currently investigating what started out as an attack on our training group.”

“You have never brought an investigation to the United Nations before,” the Secretary General said.

“Why are we even entertaining this,” the Chinese ambassador asked.  “The Justice League was on our schedule today for a vote.  That vote has not happened yet.”

“I’m willing to hear them out,” the Secretary General said authoritatively.

_What vote_ , Batman thought.

Superman continued, “No, we haven’t brought investigations here before, because we haven’t had reason to.  Today, we do.  Like I said, our training group was attacked on a wilderness training trip.  Fortunately, there were no serious injuries.  They were attacked by less than lethal weapons.”

Batman produced two of the darts that Damian had collected during the first attack, “They were shot at with these.  Are they familiar to any of you?”

“Should they be,” the German ambassador asked.

“They belong to the U.N.,” Batman said, “ _Someone_ ought to know about them.”

“What do you mean, they’re ours,” the Secretary General asked.

Superman spoke again, “During our research into the attack, we found that these darts were part of a United Nations project.  They were invented to arm your peacekeepers with non-lethal weapons.”

Batman picked up the explanation, “We have seen two substances filling these darts in the time we’ve been attacked by these weapons.  The first is a paralytic agent.  The chemical structure of the tranquilizer matches that of a known project funded by both the U.N. and the United States Army for medical usage.”

“Why are you bringing this to us, instead of to the Army,” the delegate from the United States asked.

Batman held up the second dart, “Because of this.  This dart is filled with Kryptonite.  The chemical tags of the Kryptonite match that of a consignment of Kryptonite that was entrusted to the U.N. almost ten years ago.”

Batman pulled a silver pistol from his utility belt, secretly enjoying the gasps of the assembled delegates.  “There is also this.  This is one of the weapons designed to fire these darts.  This, and several more like it, were taken from captured members of a terror group that attacked our training group a second time this past weekend.”

Superman could hear the tension growing in Batman’s voice, and stepped in, “This is one of the weapons that were designed for your peacekeepers.  Our investigation has revealed that the project was scrapped, but the arms are stockpiled in various U.N. facilities, including this one.”

The murmurs of disbelief were louder this time before the Chinese delegate spoke out, “This is preposterous.  This proves nothing.  Theft happens all the time, even at U.N. facilities.”

“Then how about this,” Wonder Woman said, speaking up authoritatively, “Most of you are unaware of the fact that the Secretary General has limited access to Justice League computers through a secured link.  That access has been used more times in the past month that at any time in the last six years.  All access requests are recorded in League systems.  We have the IP addresses of the computers that requested information from Justice League servers, and what was accessed.  Both of the computers are in this building, and both of them require security clearance for access.”

Superman nodded, “The first information request from League servers occurred a week before the first attack.”

“Are you accusing the United Nations of orchestrating attacks on the Justice League,” the German ambassador asked.

Superman shook his head, “We aren’t accusing you of anything.  What we are doing is presenting a series of facts.”

The Chinese delegate nearly shouted, “Enough of this.  This is all circumstantial.  If these aren’t accusations, then you need to get to the point.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed under his cowl, “We have already discovered who carried out the attacks.  It is a group that calls themselves Pure Earth.  They are dedicated to the removal and eventual extermination of super-powered beings from the face of the Earth.  They claim high-ranking members among their number.  We are still narrowing down names.”

“So, you are making baseless accusations against United Nations members without having proof of who you are looking for,” the Chinese delegate interrupted.

Batman stared at the man, “We have seized a Pure Earth server, and are still processing the massive amount of information now available to us.”

The delegate looked distinctly nervous at that statement.

Superman looked back and forth between the delegate and Batman for a second before saying, “We aren’t here to make accusations.  We are here to call for an investigation.  We have provided more than enough evidence to prove that there has been some sort of involvement with the U.N. in the attacks on the Justice League.  Whether it was sanctioned or not needs to be determined.  With what we’ve shown you today, I would think that you would want to know these answers yourself.  I propose an internal investigation into how these proven U.N. weapons ended up in the hands of a potential terrorist organization.”

The Chinese delegate spoke up again, “I’ve heard enough.  I officially call for our original vote.  We should follow our schedule and vote on the dissolution of our agreement and ending our partnership with the Justice League on the grounds of child endangerment.”

Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman all stared at each other, surprised that the United Nations was considering ending their partnership.  They had no idea anything like this was even being considered.

The French ambassador stood and spoke, “I believe we have already covered and disproved the child endangerment charges.  I officially call for the requested investigation into the possible involvement of U.N. assets in attacks on Justice League affiliates.”

The Canadian delegate stood and said, “I second the call for investigation.”

The Secretary General stood as well, “A motion is on the floor.”

The Chinese ambassador looked ready to walk out as the German delegate stood and spoke, “I propose we postpone the original vote until the completion of this investigation.”

“I second,” the American delegate said quickly.

The German continued, “I also volunteer to head the investigation into the use of United Nations resources in attacking Justice League Affiliates.”

The Secretary General nodded and said, “It is so ordered.  Our vote will be placed on hold pending the results of your investigation.  You will investigate these claims and report back as soon as possible.  This council stands in recess; two hours for lunch.”

Batman walked over to the German delegate and laid the tranquilizer gun and darts on the table, “These might help in your investigation.  You can have these, we have more.”

The Chinese delegation stormed out of the council chamber as the American delegate waved the Justice League representatives over.  Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman walked over to see what the man wanted.

The delegate gave a small smile, “Hey, why didn’t you bring this to us first before addressing the whole General Assembly?”

Batman growled, “Why didn’t you let us know that the U.N. was contemplating ending our affiliation?”

The man shook his head, “They never would have gotten enough votes for it to pass.”

“Whose idea was this whole vote,” Wonder Woman asked.

“Our friend, the Chinese Ambassador.”

“The only one who seemed to be pushing for us to not present our evidence,” Batman said thoughtfully.

“Does that mean anything,” the delegate asked suspiciously.

“Not yet,” Superman said, “but our investigation might be leaning that way.  Pure Earth is based in Vietnam, but we’ve found several mentions of Chinese contacts and possible involvement.  Also, there was a Chinese government satellite over the Midwest last weekend, during Pure Earth’s second attack.”

The delegate shook his head, “Why haven’t we heard anything about this?  This hasn’t even made the news.”

“We’re trying to keep it that way,” Batman said.

The delegate took a deep breath, “I think that ship has sailed.  This session was going out live on CNN and being broadcast live over the internet.”

Superman sighed, “I wish we knew that before I got us on the schedule for today.”

“Nothing we can do about that now,” Wonder Woman said.

“Let’s get out of here,” Batman said, looking around at the cameras in the meeting chamber.

Superman leaned over to the American ambassador and asked, “Is there another way out of here?  I’m really not looking forward to going through that mob again, especially now that we know what they’re mad at.”

The delegate smiled and waved the heroes to a back door, “Come on, it’s the least I can do for you.”

_Thursday…_

Damian walked slowly into the cave after dinner two days after the U.N. meeting.  The League had been increasingly busy ever since the formerly secret attacks had been revealed to the world.  As such, everyone had been called in to take part in the investigation.

Damian slumped down in to a chair next to Tim and sighed.  Tim smiled at the teen and said, “Didn’t you get any sleep after coming home from the Watchtower?”

Damian had taken an overnight monitoring shift, now that the League council had called for around the clock coverage.  Damian had returned home just after his family had left for work and had gone straight to bed at Alfred’s insistence.  He actually felt well-rested, until he got his last phone call.

Damian looked at his hands and said, “I just had to explain to Robin that the training hike didn’t end when I broke my ankle, but when we were attacked.  She saw Father on the news from the U.N. meeting and figured out that both attacks were aimed at me and my team.”

Tim turned his head slowly to look at his brother, “You didn’t tell her that you were kidnapped on Saturday?”

“I thought it best she not know,” Damian said, “There’s nothing either of us can do to change what happened.”

Tim nodded sagely, “So, you pissed her off and spent the last hour trying to make it better?”

Damian sighed again, “The last hour and a half, actually.”

Tim tried to hide his smile, “How exactly were you going to explain the new scars on your neck?”

“I wasn’t thinking about that when we were talking,” Damian said before sighing and asking, “Where’s Father?”

Tim stopped hiding his smile, “He’s getting ready to go on patrol.  I believe Alfred can help you order the requisite apology flowers.  You don’t need to ask for Bruce’s credit card.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I thought you would know me better than that by now.”  Tim stared and Damian murmured, “Alfred and I already placed the order.  I just wanted to see if he was going to take me to my doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

Tim motioned towards the locker room and said, “He should be out in a minute.  How’s it feeling?”

“It gets sore a little too easily for my liking,” Damian growled.

“Well, you haven’t exactly been taking it easy and letting it heal,” Tim said.  “Dr. Thompkins probably won’t be any happier about you getting kidnapped while in a cast than Robin was.”

“I have an excuse, though,” Damian said, “I wasn’t on a mission, I was babysitting.  We were sitting on the couch watching a movie when we were abducted.  The only way I could have been less active at the time is to have been asleep when they came.”

“From what the kids said, you were pretty active when it came to getting away from the kidnappers.”

Tim and Damian looked over as Bruce walked up to the brothers at the computer.  Damian rolled his eyes, “Again, it couldn’t be helped.”

Bruce smiled as he set his cowl on the computer console, “No one’s blaming you for defending your friends.”

“Not yet,” Damian grumbled, “Are you taking me to my appointment tomorrow, or is Alfred?”

“I’m taking you,” Bruce said, nodding, “I want Leslie to take a look at your neck while we’re there.  Make sure it’s healing properly.  Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

“I saw that there’s an opening in the monitoring roster tonight.  I can take it if no one else can cover.”

Bruce shook his head, “It’s been less than twenty-four hours since your last shift.  You can rest a little more.  Jason took the open shift.  Cyborg reported that you did some good work in analyzing server data while you were on your shift, though.  He might put together another data packet for you to work on tomorrow, after your appointment.  Until then, you’re off duty.”

Damian released a huff, “Okay, Father.  I can do more, though.”

“I know you can, son.  There will be plenty of work to be put in before this is all over.”  Bruce trailed off as one of the cave’s secure lines started ringing.  Glancing at it warily, Bruce pressed the button for the speakerphone and put a little Batman in his voice, “Speak.”

A familiar voice came through the line, “Oh, good.  I caught you before you went out.  Batman, I need to borrow you.  I need a detective.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Clark’s vague request, “Doesn’t the Metropolis Police Department have detectives, Superman?”

“None I would trust with this case, Batman,” Superman said, “I believe this has direct bearing on our bigger case.”

_Why is he speaking so vaguely?  He must not be alone.  Since when did Superman start carrying a cell phone on him on patrol?_   “Our other case?  What do you have?”

“I was called out to a crime scene on the outskirts of Metropolis.  Unincorporated area outside of town, known for a rougher crowd.  Somehow, I don’t think any of the usual suspects are responsible for this crime, though.”

“What sort of crime,” Batman asked insistently.

Superman sighed roughly before saying, “A murder.  A beheading, to be exact.”

“And, why do you think this has something to do with our other case,” Batman asked.

The reply took a second to come, “The victim is someone I’ve met before; someone I was working with.  He was found wearing a Superman t-shirt.”

“That can’t be an uncommon thing in Metropolis,” Batman said.

Superman continued, “He also had a tattoo.  It looks like he got this one very recently; possibly after he was killed.”

That piqued Batman’s interest, “What does this tattoo say?”

Superman spoke almost hesitantly, “Heroes can’t save you.”

Batman’s jaw dropped, “I’ll be right there.”

Bruce disconnected the call and turned to his sons, “Damian, I take it back.  You’re on duty again.  Take over for whatever Tim is working on.  When Dick gets down here, have him do a standard patrol of the town.  Have him take a little longer look at the edges of town, just in case.  If he finds anything, or if he needs help, call Jason and have him back Dick up.  You are not to leave the cave, no matter what.  Tim, you’re with me.  Get dressed and get ready for an investigation.  I don’t like the way this sounds.  If I’m understanding Clark’s unsaid suggestion, then our larger investigation just got a whole lot more serious.”

 

**A/N: Okay, so I got a bit lazy.  I didn’t want to take the time to make up names for the U.N. delegates, and I didn’t want to use real names, so I took the lazy way out.  I’m sorry this took so long to get out, but my normal story process strikes again.  I tell myself I’m not going to do this every time I write a multi-chapter story, and yet I have done it every time.  What I’m talking about is coming up with ideas for new stories.  In this case, in the time between chapter 10 and 11 of this story, I completed an entirely different story.  It was one idea I had a while ago, and the ideas just kept coming, so I had to write it out.  Unfortunately, you won’t see that story for quite a long time yet.  There are half a dozen stories that come before that one that haven’t been written yet, and I can’t release it out of order, because it will make absolutely no sense without reading the previous stories first.  I have big plans for my 2019 stories.  They are all one giant, continuous story, told over at least six tales.  But, that’s all in the future.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	12. 12

Hero Hunt

Chapter 12

 

Damian cringed under the doctor’s withering glare as he sat on the exam table Friday morning.  Bruce was trying to edge away from his son, but the power of the glare froze him in place.

“What is the meaning of this,” Dr. Thompkins snapped, “How can you possibly have new injuries when I distinctly _ordered_ you to have no caped activities?”

Damian gave a forced smile and said in an unsure tone, “I cut myself shaving?”

Leslie pierced him with a gaze as she approached slowly, “Are you asking me or telling me?  We had a deal, Damian.  You were supposed to take it easy, to let your ankle heal.  I want the truth, this time.  What happened?”

Bruce sat on the exam table next to Damian and wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders, “It wasn’t his fault, Leslie.  He didn’t go looking for trouble, it just has a way of finding us.  He was staying out of the investigation, until it came for him.”

Leslie cocked her head, “What does that mean?”

Dr. Thompkins sat on a stool as Bruce said, “Remember that serum that knocked the kids out?  Well, we found out last Saturday that it was laced with a tracking agent.  This group has been following the kids for a week.”

Leslie gasped, “That’s terrible, but how did that lead to neck injuries?”

Damian sighed, “Irey and Jai didn’t want to stay home alone last Saturday while their Father went to work and their Mother was out of town.  West asked me to go and watch the kids.  We were just finishing lunch when these ass…um, jerks, broke in, hit us with more of those tranquilizers, and kidnapped us.  We woke up tied up in a warehouse with these torture collars around our necks.  They used the collars on us before I could get us out.  That’s how I got the burns.”

Leslie gently peeled the gauze from Damian’s neck and asked, “Is that the Reader’s Digest version of events?”

Bruce nodded as he squeezed Damian’s shoulder, “Yes, but he hit the important points.”

Leslie examined the healing burns on the teen’s neck closely and stated, “Alfred didn’t do the wound care on this.”

Bruce shook his head, “Not the original treatment, but he has done the follow-up care.”

Leslie nodded, “Damian, you need to thank the person who did your initial care.  This is going to heal with very minimal scarring.  Keep up the care regimen you’re prescribed, and in a couple months, you won’t even be able to see it if you aren’t looking for it.”

Damian sighed, “Robin will see it.  She spots injuries almost as well as you do.”

Leslie smirked, “That’s just because she loves you.  Come on, let’s get your x-ray.”

Several minutes later, boy and doctor returned to the exam room.  Damian sat down on the exam table again as Leslie said, “Brenda will bring the x-ray in when it’s ready.  I wanted to ask you how it went with the police.”

Damian looked at Leslie strangely, “The Justice League came for us after the kidnapping.  I wasn’t about to call the police.”

Leslie shook her head, “No, I mean when you talked to the police about Dr. Fong.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Oh, that.  They never called.  I forgot about that.”

“That’s strange,” Leslie said, “They called me on Wednesday and told me the investigation was over.”

“What did they say,” Bruce asked.

Dr. Thompkins looked down, “Dr, Fong pleaded guilty and was granted a request to forgo trial.  He will serve ten to twenty years for multiple counts of molestation and lewd acts with a minor.”

Damian took a deep breath, “Justice is served, then.”

Bruce nodded, “What does this mean for you and the clinic, Doctor?”

Leslie sighed, “It’s a black mark, for sure.  Most of my patients have stated they will stick with us.”

“Including us,” Damian interjected.

Leslie gave a smile, “I guess I’ll have to postpone my retirement a little longer.”

A knock on the door brought the conversation to a halt as Brenda, the nurse, brought in the developed x-ray.  Leslie studied it for a minute before Bruce asked, “Well?  How does it look?  Is my son whole again?”

Leslie waved the men over, “Take a look.  It’s doing good.”

“Then, why do you sound so apprehensive,” Damian asked.

Leslie sighed, “Because I know you, Damian.  If I tell you that it’s healed, you’ll demand that I take the cast off immediately and let you back out on the town.  It is healing, and it looks very good, and you could probably get around without the cast now, but it could be better.  It could get stronger with more time.  I don’t want you to rush things, Damian.”

Bruce was internally cringing at Damian’s perceived response.  His son surprised him, however.  Damian looked up at the physician and said, “If that’s what you want, we can work with that.”

Bruce and Leslie both did a double take and stared strangely at Damian.

“What do you mean, honey,” Leslie asked.

Damian walked back to the exam table and sat down, “You say I need more time to get stronger.  I’m okay with that.”

Bruce stared at Damian before saying, “I’m sorry, Leslie.  I must have brought the wrong kid.”

Leslie ignored Bruce’s remark and addressed Damian, “What aren’t you telling us, Damian?”

Damian sighed and looked down.  Speaking softly, he said, “It gets sore very easily.  I might have pushed my recovery a bit too fast.  I could have gone a bit easier on it.”  Damian looked up sheepishly and said, “It hurts.”

_Damian never complains about pain, unless a body part is hanging off or blood is spurting out of at least five holes,_ Bruce and Leslie thought at the same time.

“Why didn’t you say anything, son?”

Damian looked down again, “I was hoping it would get better the more I used it.  You know, like building up muscle.  It hasn’t.”

Leslie walked over and placed Damian’s casted foot on the exam table.  Taking a closer look, the doctor asked, “Is it getting any worse?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  I’m usually fine in the morning, but by middle afternoon I start getting sore, and it starts throbbing.”

Leslie nodded and said, “That could also be part of the healing.  You can’t bend your ankle in the cast, which changes the way you walk.  You’re using muscles differently than they’re normally being used.  It takes a while for your muscles to adjust to the change.  In other words, it’s okay to be sore.”

Damian looked up and asked hopefully, “It is?”

“I would be amazed if you weren’t sore,” Leslie said with a smile.  “Mark it down, Damian Wayne is human, just like the rest of us.”

Damian sighed, partially in annoyance at Leslie’s remark, and partially in relief that there wasn’t something serious wrong with him.  “How much longer do you want me to stay in the cast?”

“Can you give me five more days,” Leslie asked.

Bruce looked over at the physician and said, “Are you asking or ordering?  If you want him in the cast for five more days, he’ll be in the cast for five more days.”

Leslie turned to her patient, “Damian?”

“I think five more days is a good idea,” the teen said.  “I’ll try to be a little less active until next Wednesday.”

Leslie leaned over to hug Damian, then gave Bruce a hug, “Then, you’re all done.  Make an appointment for next Wednesday on your way out.  You’re doing great, honey, keep it up.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Damian said as he slid off the table.

In the car on the way to Wayne Enterprises, Bruce echoed Leslie’s sentiments, “She’s right, you know.  You are doing great.”

Damian sighed, “I just hate being such a burden, though.”

“I don’t think you’re a burden, son.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I didn’t mean to you.  Me being injured is a burden to Alfred.  He’s had to change his whole schedule around to care for me.”

“I don’t think he thinks you are a burden either, Damian.”  Bruce turned to look at his son and smirked, “At least, not anymore.”

Damian snorted a small laugh, “Well, of course he’s going to be too polite to tell you how he really feels.  I don’t want him to hate me, Father.  I’ll never get to read his new book if he hates me.”

Bruce smiled, “He doesn’t hate you.  If Alfred hated you, you would know it.  Wait, is that why you wanted to come to work with me today?  To stay out of Alfred’s hair for a day?”

Damian blushed, “He gets a lot more done when he doesn’t have to wait on me.”

Father and son stepped out of the car in the Wayne Enterprises parking garage.  Bruce shook his head at Jason’s truck, which was parked diagonally across two of the five spots reserved for Bruce’s use.

“I’m going to have to commandeer more spots soon.”

Damian smiled, “Or, you could just teach Jason how to park correctly.

Damian walked up to an antique roadster parked in one of the spots and asked, “What is this?”

Bruce grinned at the old vehicle, “That was my Grandfather’s toy.  He only drove it a few times before he died.  Tim said a while back that he wanted to drive everything in the garage at least once.  He must be making a dent if he drove this one.  This car was buried in the back of the garage.”

“Let’s hope he isn’t making dents,” Damian smiled, “This car is too nice to be wrecked.”  Damian then turned to Bruce as they waited for the elevator and said, “Can’t wait until he asks for the keys to Alfred’s Mercedes or Jason’s truck.”

Jean, Bruce’s longtime secretary, smiled as the two similarly-featured men stepped off of the elevator.  “Hello, you two.”

“Good morning, Jean,” Bruce said.

“Hello,” Damian chimed in.

Jean glanced down at Damian’s still-casted foot and asked, “No mail deliveries today?”

Damian shook his head, “Maybe next summer.  I have another week before this can come off.”

“That you’re walking at all after what you did is a small miracle,” Jean said, then smiled, “Are you going to keep the old man on track today?”

Bruce’s head shot up, “The old man?  Weren’t you going to bring in pictures of your grandchildren, Jean?”

Jean held up a picture frame with a picture of a toddler in it, “I already did.  Neither of my kids are in their thirties yet, though.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I was fifteen when Dick was born.  Anyway, I believe you are older than me.”

“You’ll have grandchildren one day, too, Mr. Wayne,” Jean said.

Bruce released a breath and gestured at Damian, “Yes, and I’ll probably get them from him first.”

Jean turned to Damian and asked, “Oh?  Something you want to tell us, Damian?”

“Thankfully, no,” Damian said, enjoying the banter with Bruce’s assistant, “but, I’m not opposed to it.”

Jean looked at her computer screen, “Ten minutes until your call with Hirsch in Telecom.”

“Thank you, Jean,” Bruce said as the Wayne men walked into Bruce’s office.

Bruce sat at his desk and prepared for his call as Damian took a seat on the couch and pulled his laptop from his backpack.

Bruce called out, “Did you want to give some insights on this meeting, too?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “My class starts in half an hour.  I have to listen to a lecture.  Don’t worry, I brought headphones.”

Bruce nodded, “Just make sure you use them to actually listen to the lecture, not to music.”

_Later That Night…_

“What’cha doin?”

“JESUS CHRIST!”

Tim jumped out of the computer chair in front of the Batcomputer as Damian’s voice entered his ear from barely an inch away.  He spun with wide eyes to look at his younger brother.

“Damian.  Good lord.  How the hell are you so quiet in a cast?”

Damian just smirked and said, “You know me.”

“Yes, I do,” Tim grumbled, trying to get his heart rate back under control after the scare.

Damian looked around and asked, “Where is everybody?”

Tim sat down again and said, “Dick is already out on patrol.  Jason is with Roy; it looks like there might have been a similar murder just outside of Jump City like the one outside of Metropolis.  Bruce is on the Watchtower with Clark and Diana, discussing fallout from the U.N. meeting.”

“What sort of fallout,” Damian asked, taking a chair of his own.

“The good kind,” Tim said, “Believe it or not, we’re seeing a groundswell of support from various governments and political bodies.  It seems that Clark’s speech changed a lot of minds.  It’s official, your training group has near-worldwide endorsement.”

Damian nodded, “Okay.  That brings me back to my original question.  What are you doing?”

“I’m looking into the murder Clark called Bruce and I to help with last night.”

Damian raised an eyebrow skeptically, “In our cold case files?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah.  Something about last night reminded me of an old case Bruce and I worked, back when I was Robin.”

Damian cocked his head, “You think Pure Earth is older than we originally thought?”

Tim shrugged, “I don’t know.  Once I find the case, then I can compare them.”

“Well, while you’re looking,” Damian said, “tell me about last night.”

Tim took a deep breath as he scrolled through the old case files, “The man was named Eugene Wilson.  He’s a writer for television and movies.  He’s been in contact with Superman because he is, or was, trying to write a screenplay for a Superman movie.”

Damian snorted, interrupting Tim, “A Superman movie?  Who would want to see that?”

Tim thought for a second, “I don’t know, it could be interesting.  He was able to get his information from the source, too, so it could have been good.  You don’t have to worry about Jon dragging you to see it now, the guy was beheaded.”

Tim looked up at the screen and gasped, “There it is.”

Damian looked up as well, “There what is?”

Tim pointed at the file displayed on the screen, “The cold case I was thinking of.  October 2013, Brantley James.  This was a messy one.  He wasn’t found until two days after he was killed.  Head was sliced clean off.”

“What’s so special about this case,” Damian asked.

“The cause of death,” Tim said, “Both beheadings were clean.  Too clean.  It’s the strangest thing, too.  Coroner placed time of death at roughly the same time that Batman and I were taking down a drug smuggling ring right next door.”

An old thought pinged through Damian’s mind, chilling his blood.  He asked nervously, “Do you have crime scene pictures?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Tim brought up a slideshow of police photos.  Damian’s eyes widened and all color left his face at the scene he was shown.

Tim looked at his normally iron-stomached brother and asked, “Are you alright, Damian?”

“Turn it off,” Damian whispered.

The pictures disappeared, but Damian’s pallor didn’t.  “What is it,” Tim asked.

Damian spoke shakily, “You can take that out of the cold case file, Tim.  I know who the…the murderer is.”

Damian looked like he was going to be sick as Tim said, “You weren’t even in the picture when this happened.  How can you know who did it?”

“Call Father,” Damian gasped with his jaw quivering.

“Why?”

Damian closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, “Because, I killed that man.”

Tim’s jaw dropped as he stared at his brother’s infinitely forlorn face, “That isn’t funny, Damian.”

Damian shook his head, “No, it isn’t, but it’s true.”

“You weren’t even in Gotham yet,” Tim said, trying to defend his brother against his own admission.

Damian looked down, “I was, you just didn’t know about it yet.  I’m betting the reason this is still a cold case is because Father was distracted by a previously unknown son being dropped in his lap.”

_He’s right,_ Tim thought.  _That is the exact time Damian came into our lives.  Damn.  Bruce will not be happy about solving this case._

“Damian, I…”

“Just call him,” Damian snapped, interrupting his brother.

Tim sighed as he activated the radio link and said, “Batman, come in.”

A sigh preceded their father’s response, “I’m a little busy, Red Robin.  Make it quick.”

“You need to come home, right now.”

“What is it,” Batman asked.

Tim looked over at Damian before saying, “It’s something that can’t be talked about over an open radio link.”

Batman growled, “This better be good.  I’m on my way.”

Tim sighed, “It’s not good, but it’s very important.”

The radio clicked off, and Tim turned back to Damian, “Are you going to be okay, Little Brother?”

“I doubt it,” Damian sighed as the Zeta Tube powered up.  Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman were announced by the computer, and Damian cringed, “Nope, not going to be okay.”

The three Justice League founders walked over to the computer, and Batman said, “Okay, you got us here.  What’s so important?”

Tim stood and placed himself between Batman and Damian.  “Could you, um, take your cowl off?”

“For what reason?”

“Because, if this is a father/son talk, instead of a Batman/Robin talk, it might go a little easier.”

Batman growled as he removed the pointed headpiece and said, “I’m waiting.”

“Did you have to bring everybody,” Damian muttered to himself.  Only Tim and Superman caught the utterance.

Tim took a deep breath and said, “After the investigation yesterday, I told you that Clark’s murder reminded me of one of our cold cases.”

Superman rolled his eyes at the way Tim phrased the comment, “Really, Tim?”

Bruce was having a hard time not smiling at the phrasing, “Let him talk; it’s obviously important.”

Tim had phrased the comment that way purposely, to try to get Bruce in a better mood.  “It took me a while, but I finally found the case I was looking for.”

Tim hit a couple keys and brought up the case file.  Bruce took a step closer to the monitor to read the file.  He didn’t notice when Damian took a step away, but Wonder Woman did.

Bruce nodded, “Brantley James, I remember this one.  Messy business.  So, did you find a connection to Clark’s case.”

“…Not exactly.”

Superman read over the summary file and asked, “I don’t think I’ve heard of this guy.  How is it similar?”

Bruce turned to Superman and said, “Brantley James was a beat reporter, working freelance for the Gotham Gazette.  He had a ‘Geraldo’ experience early in his career and nearly lost it all.  He was able to keep his job, but just barely.  He spent the rest of his life trying to find the scoop that would resurrect his career.  He was found beheaded on a rooftop, overlooking a drug house that Tim and I had busted.  What did you find, Tim?”

Tim looked distinctly uncomfortable as he said, “We, um, we solved the case.”

Bruce’s eyes brightened for a second before he asked warily, “Why don’t you seem happy about that?”

Damian sighed loudly and took a step forward.  Staring at the ground, he said, “I killed Brantley James.”

Wonder Woman gasped at the announcement.  Superman flinched hard, again wondering just how much of Damian’s history he didn’t know, and how much of it they might never know.  He was also wondering if he should try to shield Jon from this kind of news.

For his part, Bruce didn’t react.  At least, not on the outside.  Inside, he was trying to figure out logistics, while also trying to stop himself from simultaneously yelling and crying.

_So far, so good,_ Tim thought, _no explosions yet._

Bruce had to swallow hard before he was able to ask, “How?”

The word, spoken softly in a hoarse voice, felt like a slap in the face to Damian.  Still unable to raise his head, Damian said, “I used a sharpened steel garrote.  I pulled until his head came off.  It was my signature, back then.”

Bruce shook his head, “No.  I mean, you weren’t in town when he was killed.”

Damian sniffled sharply, “I was, you just didn’t know it yet.”

“I think we should leave,” Superman said.

“Yeah, sure,” Bruce said distractedly, his attention never leaving his son.  Bruce approached his youngest son slowly, and noticed the way Damian flinched as Bruce’s boots came into view.  Bruce levered Damian’s chin up so he could look at the pathetically sad look on his son’s face.

Damian met his Father’s eyes for two seconds before he seemed to collapse in on himself.  Bruce pulled Damian tight to his chest as the teen cried, his guilt overwhelming him.

By the time Damian had calmed, Bruce had sat the two of them in the chair in front of the computer, Tim had taken the other chair, and Superman and Wonder Woman had left the cave.

Bruce spoke softly as he said, “Tell me everything.”

Damian’s voice was barely audible as he started in, “I’ve told you some of this before.  We arrived in Gotham two days before Mother introduced us.  She made meeting you the reward for a test.  To earn that right, I had to track you, without you knowing you were being followed.  He, um, James wasn’t the only one I killed in accomplishing my mission.  I also killed a homeless man who tried to attack me, and a shooter who was trying to build up the courage to take a shot at you while you were on the roof of police plaza, talking to Commissioner Gordon.  Oh, Mother and I also killed a group of rapists at the harbor, and two dozen League of Shadows soldiers who had trailed us to Gotham.”

Tim sat back, stunned, “You just solved a whole bunch of our cold cases, Damian.”

“Yeah, by admitting just how much I used to like killing,” Damian growled.

“Enough of that,” Bruce said, “Get back to Brantley James.  How did he become a target?”

Damian flinched at the phrasing, but continued, “I tracked you two from Police Plaza to your drug bust.”

Bruce asked, “How did you get around town?  Those two locations aren’t exactly close to each other.”

“I walked,” Damian said.  “I admit, I lost you two for a while, when you drove off in the Batmoblie.  I followed the police cars for almost an hour before I ended up at your crime scene.  You two were leading the drug dealers out of the building when I got there.  I looked around from an alleyway to observe when I saw something being held over the edge of a rooftop.  I remembered the shooter I had just killed, and didn’t want anyone taking shots at you before I could meet you.  I worked my way onto the roof and found James pointing a laser mic at you and Tim.  I saw what I thought was a spy, and reacted how I was trained to react.  Then, I used his equipment to listen in to the two of you talking on the roof of the drug house.  Hearing you call Father ‘Dad’ caused me to hate you more than anything else you might have done, Tim.  You see, Mother didn’t tell me that I wasn’t an only child.”

Bruce looked at Damian strangely, “The only prints found on the equipment were James’.”

Damian shook his head, “Believe it or not, I was smart enough to wear gloves at nine years old.  After what I just told you, _that_ is what stuck out in your mind?”

Tim smiled, “Well, it’s been proven that you don’t hate me now, and this makes it a little more understandable for why you hated me then.  So, what do we do now?”

Bruce thought, then sighed, “Take Brantley James out of our cold case file.  List it as solved, with a former agent of the League of Assassins listed as the murderer.  Find the other cases Damian mentioned, and list them the same way.”

Damian sat up in Bruce’s lap, “What about the official report?  If we have it as a cold case, then so do the police.  How do we report this to Gordon?”

Bruce shook his head, “Three five-year-old cold cases with no evidence, and no one pressing for a resolution?  Why do we have to report anything to the police?”

“Shouldn’t we offer his family some closure,” Damian asked.

Tim looked confused, “What family?”

Damian turned to look at his brother, “Brantley James.  Before I killed him, he begged me to spare him.  He said he had a wife and kids he was trying to support.”

Bruce sighed, “Dying men say a lot of things.”

Tim referred back to the case notes and said, “Damian, James didn’t have a family.  He got divorced around the time his career fell apart, ten years before he ran across you.  His ex-wife has kids, but they are from her second marriage, after she divorced James.”

“He lied to me,” Damian asked curiously.

Bruce hid his smirk, “Like I said, dying men say a lot of things.”

“So, what are we going to do about this,” Damian asked.

Bruce thought for a second, “I think we’re doing all we need to do right now.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “You’re going to let me get away with murder, literally?”

Bruce’s hand rubbed up and down on Damian’s back soothingly, “Do you want to go to jail?”

“Well, no,” Damian said, “but shouldn’t there be more punishment for a string of murders than…whatever you’re doing?”

Bruce sighed, “The person who committed those crimes doesn’t exist anymore.  I know you, and your conscience, Damian.  You’re punishing yourself enough.  You have to live with what you did.  We are here to help you, but only you can carry this burden.”

Damian was silent, thinking.  Uncomfortable with the silence, Tim said, “Well, we can confirm that I was wrong.  There are no connections between the cold case and our current case.”

Damian finally looked up and asked, “Is it just mode of death that made you think of the cold case?”

Tim nodded, glad that Damian was trying to move on, “Yeah.  Beheading isn’t all that common, right?”

“Can we look at last night’s crime scene photos,” Damian asked.

Tim waited for Bruce to nod before he brought up the pictures.  Damian studied them for several seconds before pointing at the screen.

“Look at how jagged the wound is at the bottom of the neck.  This wasn’t done with a garrote, or a sword, for that matter.”

“That was our conclusion, too,” Bruce said.

Damian zoomed in on the cut, causing Tim to wince a bit at the sight.  “He wasn’t killed here,” Damian said.

“How do you know,” Tim asked.

Damian pointed at the severed neck again, “This beheading was done with a saw.  That takes time, and it’s messy; much messier than this crime scene.  This crime scene has limited splatter, and no pooling.  He was killed and beheaded somewhere else, then dumped here.”

Bruce sighed, “Unfortunately, you’re right.  Clark and I came to the same conclusion last night.”

“So, we have two problems.  At least, two problems that I can see,” Damian said.

Bruce could see quite a few more problems that just two, but wanted to see what his son came up with.  “What are those,” Bruce asked.

Damian took a deep breath, “First, we need to find the original crime scene.  Second, Pure Earth has some sick fucks working for them, if this is how they escalate their crusade against us.”

Bruce flicked Damian’s ear, causing the boy flinch and recoil at the sharp, yet momentary, pain.  “Watch your language, even if your assessment of the situation is correct.”

“What do we do first,” Tim asked.

Bruce almost gave a smile, “Nothing.  This is Clark’s case, we were only brought in to consult.”

Despite his earlier mood, Damian snorted at the announcement.  Tim shook his head as a call came in over the radio from Nightwing.

“Batman, come in.”

_I don’t like that tone in his voice._   “Go ahead, Nightwing.”

Nightwing’s voice was heavy as he said, “B, we’ve got one of our own.  It’s specifically aimed at us.  Bats, they took out Freely.”

Bruce groaned as he thought of his long-time informant, “Damn it.  Is there a message?”

“Not a tattoo,” Nightwing said, “but there is a message written on his shirt.  ‘Snitches get stitches.  Traitors get worse’.  I guess Pure Earth found out he was an informant.”

“Where are you,” Bruce asked.

“The docks,” Nightwing replied.

“Red Robin and I will be there soon.”

Damian stood to let Batman out of his chair to hit the streets.  As Batman pulled the cowl over his head again, Damian asked, “Um, Father?  Do you need me anymore tonight?”

Batman eyed his son, hearing the insecurity in the boy’s voice, “I think we can survive a night with radio silence.  What did you have in mind?”

Damian looked down and said, “I think I’ll head up to bed.  I think I need to talk to Robin, and Alfred.”

Batman nodded and surprised Damian with a quick hug, “Take care of yourself, son.  We’ll try to be home early, if you need me.”

Batman walked off towards the car, and Red Robin pulled his cowl up as he patted Damian on the shoulder.  “Dick was right.  You really are the only one who gets Bat-hugs.  Don’t feel bad, Little Brother.  You didn’t have a choice at the time.  Brainwashing takes a long time to overcome.”

“Thanks,” Damian said softly as Red Robin hurried to the Batmobile.

_The Docks…_

_There is always something happening at the Docks._

The Batmobile pulled up to the police barricade surrounding the crime scene.  Batman and Red Robin walked up to where Commissioner Gordon was standing, talking to the medical examiner.  The medical examiner jumped at the sudden appearance of the vigilante behind Commissioner Gordon.  Gordon caught the movement a second before realizing what it meant.

Gordon just shook his head and sighed before addressing the Dark Knight.  “At least you were kind enough not to scare me this time.  Let’s go, so we can get the body out of here.”

Gordon and Batman walked over to the decapitated body.  Freely had been laid out with his head under his arm.  His large brimmed white hat had been placed on the disembodied head, while the top of his white suit was stained red.

“How did you know about this one,” Gordon asked.

“Nightwing called it in,” Batman said, not looking at the police chief.

Gordon nodded, “I saw him earlier.  Okay, here we have…”

Batman interrupted, “Germayne Freely, former pimp and drug dealer.”

Gordon looked at Batman in surprise, “Why do I think you know more about this than I do?”

“Because I know more about this than you do,” Batman said matter-of-factly.  “Nightwing already told me more than you probably can, so let me fill you in.  Germayne Freely was looking at twenty-five to life for a third strike violation.  I convinced him he didn’t want to go down that road, and he turned himself around.  He’s been one of my best informants for close to twenty years.”

Gordon absorbed the information, “If you are so well informed, why was he killed?”

Batman took a breath, “Because he was one of my best informants.  It’s looking like this is tying into a larger case that the Justice League is working on.  A terrorist group is targeting us so-called heroes.  Right now, they are hitting targets with dubious affiliations to us, like Freely here.  That message written on his shirt is aimed at me, and all those who might think helping the good guys is a good idea.”

“How was he killed,” Gordon asked.

Batman knelt and rolled the stiffening body onto its side, “I think this stab wound in the back will prove to be the cause of death.”

“Batman, look at this.”

Batman stood and walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, with Gordon following, twenty yards from the body.  “What is it, Nightwing?”

Nightwing shined a flashlight at the ground and said, “Blood.  It’s fairly fresh, too.  If you look close enough, there are a couple drops leading to the body.  He was killed here, then dragged over there.”

“That’s not enough blood for a beheading,” Gordon pointed out, old instincts from his detective days kicking in.

“He’s right,” Batman said, “How do you explain that?”

Red Robin smiled at Nightwing’s confused look and said, “I’ll explain it.  He was killed here, but he wasn’t killed here.  Look at the blood pattern.”

“A straight line,” Batman said.

Red Robin took the flashlight from Nightwing and shined it along the line of blood, “Look how some spots have more blood than others along the line.  This isn’t splatter, it’s drips.  There was a van or a truck parked here.  Freely was killed in the back of that.  The killers were careless enough to let the blood drip out while they moved the body.”

Red Robin stood and shined the light to the side of the blood line, “Look here.  Foot prints.  They wore shoe covers when they were in the vehicle, then took them off when they moved the body.”

“That’s a good catch, Red Robin,” Gordon said.  “Are you sure none of you want to join the Police Force?”

Red Robin smirked, “You can’t afford us.”

“We like our autonomy,” Batman said.

Gordon sighed, “I had to try.  Okay, since you’ve taken us this far, what’s the next step?”

Nightwing pointed to the top of a nearby light pole and said, “Call the Port Authority and get the recording from that camera.  Maybe we’ll get lucky and be able to get a glimpse of our killers.”

Gordon nodded and pulled his phone from his trench coat, “I can at least do that for you.”

Commissioner Gordon walked away.  Batman turned to his sons and said, “Good job so far.  I think we have more evidence to go on than Superman did for his murder.”

“Where do we want to go from here,” Nightwing asked.

Red Robin gave a small gasp, “Back to the car.”

“Why,” Batman asked.

Red Robin lifted his chin, trying to subtly indicate a passing white panel van.  Nightwing saw the slowly moving vehicle and murmured, “The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.”

“Let’s go,” Batman said.

As soon as the bats turned and looked at the van, the driver jumped in his seat at being seen and slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Move,” Batman shouted unnecessarily.  All three vigilantes were already running for the Batmobile.

Cops scattered out of the way as the Bats jumped into their car and took off.  The car had turned and was traveling at close to sixty miles per hour by the time the canopy closed.

Nightwing was holding on tightly to his grab bar as he said, “The van took a right up ahead.”

“I saw,” Batman said, “They’re trying to get out of the docks.”

“You can’t let that happen, Batman,” Red Robin said, “That’s our crime scene.”

Batman gripped the wheel tightly as he took a hard right, followed by a quick left.  “I know.  I saw the blood on the bumper, too.”

“Good call on the mobile crime scene, Red,” Nightwing said.

Up ahead of the Batmobile, the van sideswiped a cargo container before taking another right turn.

Nightwing shook his head, “We need to stop this guy before he hits the open streets and kills somebody.”

“As opposed to the people they’ve already killed,” Red Robin asked.

“Point taken,” Nightwing said.

“Too late,” Batman said as the van crashed through a chain link fence and took a left onto Harbor Front Road.

The van was speeding down the road for all it was worth, but the Batmobile kept pace easily, and started to close the distance.  The van took a wild right hand turn onto Federal Street, the right-side tires coming off the ground for a couple seconds before the weight distribution brought all four wheels back onto the road.

Red Robin gasped at the sight, “Wow.  How did he do that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Batman growled, “Some fancy driving won’t be enough to let them get away.”

The van plowed through a red light, barely missing cross traffic.  With grim determination, Batman followed the van through the hole punched in the flow of traffic.  Blaring horns and flashing lights followed the vehicle, but thankfully, no accidents.

Nightwing still gripped the grab bar tightly and said, “No kidding. Batman.  He’s going to kill somebody.  We need to stop him now.”

“I’m aware of that,” Batman snapped, pressing his car close to one hundred miles per hour.

Red Robin gasped again a second before tragedy struck.  He didn’t need to; all three vigilantes saw it coming.  The van tried to take a left-hand turn at seventy-five miles per hour.  The right front tire blew out, the metal rim caught a crack in the asphalt, sending a shower of sparks shooting fifty feet behind the doomed vehicle, and the van rolled four times before it slammed into the corner of a brick building, cutting the van in two.

“Damn it,” Batman shouted as he slowed the Batmobile to a stop.

“There went our evidence,” Red Robin grumbled as he climbed out of the car.

Nightwing jogged up to the front of the van, looked through the remnants of the windshield, and winced.  “There went our suspects, too.  I count three heads.”

Batman joined Nightwing and said, “Yes, but only one and a half bodies.”

Nightwing turned to Batman, “I’m sure the rest of them is in there, somewhere.”

“Back here,” Red Robin called out, “This is definitely our crime scene.”

Batman and Nightwing joined the younger vigilante at the back of the upended van.  Red Robin had pried open the rear doors to reveal a vivisectionist’s dream.  The walls and floor were covered in plastic sheeting.  A plastic barrel at the front of the cargo area had tipped over and was bleeding.  The victim’s blood had obviously been funneled into the barrel, to try to keep the area a little neater.  Body parts of the three murder suspects littered the red-stained sheeting.

Batman gave a deep sigh as the sound of approaching sirens rose in the distance.  “Get what you need and let’s get out of here.  Hopefully this was the only crew Pure Earth had working Gotham.”

Red Robin and Nightwing started taking samples and pictures as Commissioner Gordon approached Batman hurriedly.  The older man said, “What the hell, Batman?  What happened?”

“They shouldn’t have run,” Batman said shortly.

“Is that them, or just some idiots who got nervous,” Gordon asked.

Batman nodded, “It’s them.  These are your murderers, and this is your crime scene.”

Jim’s eyes widened, “A mobile crime scene?  I don’t think we’ve ever had that before.”

“I’m surprised we don’t have it more often,” Batman said.  He took another breath as Nightwing and Red Robin joined him, “It’s your crime scene, now.  I’ll let you know if we need anything else from it for our Justice League case.”

The vigilantes started to walk away before Batman turned back and said, “Oh, be sure it gets out that these people are murderers.  Might as well inform the public that we are getting killers off the streets, before the public starts to think this wasn’t justified.”

Commissioner Gordon nodded, “That’s a good idea.  Thanks, Batman.”

 

 

**A/N:  Sorry for the long break between chapters.  I was hoping to get two chapters up at the same time, but chapter 13 is taking a little longer to write.  I decided to just put this one out now, instead of waiting for both chapters to be ready.**

**So, in case anyone is curious about the ‘Geraldo Experience’, let me explain.  Before he was a talk show host and a political pundit, Geraldo Rivera was a serious newsman.  In 1986, a construction company was planning on renovating the Lexington Hotel in Chicago, which was the former home of Al Capone.  Yes, _that_ Al Capone.  The construction company found a series of tunnels, a shooting range, and a sealed vault.  The mystery of what could possibly be hidden in the vault was turned into a two-hour TV special, hosted by Geraldo Rivera.  Two hours of primetime live coverage, with history of the building and Capone’s exploits.  With the mystery factor on high, government agents from the IRS were called in to be on hand when the vault was opened.  Since tax evasion was one of the few charges to ever stick against Capone, IRS agents were around in case the vault was full of Capone’s hidden money.  Medical examiners were on hand, in case this vault was the dumping ground for Capone’s enemies.  The vault was finally opened, and it revealed…nothing.  With the exception of some small bits of trash, the vault was empty.  Geraldo Rivera became a laughingstock in the news industry, and he spent years trying to get back to where he was.  He still hasn’t, and is now pretty much relegated to cable news shows.  No one ever tried to behead him, though, as far as I know.  Geraldo became a cautionary tale for news reporters everywhere to check your sources before going to press.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	13. 13

Hero Hunt

Chapter 13

 

“K.O!”

Jon dropped his Xbox controller on the couch as the digitized announcer’s voice announced his latest loss.

Jon sighed and said, “Aww, man.  I thought I had you this time.”

Damian leaned back and smiled at his friend, “You got closer, but you still have a long way to go before you beat me.”

Alfred rolled his eyes as he set a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of the couch in the game room, where the two boys had spent an inordinately long time over the last two days.  “You know, Master Damian, a good host would let their guest win at least one match.”

Damian reached for a handful of popcorn, knowing it might be the only portion of the snack he might get, with the way Jon eats.  “He chose the game, Alfred.  It’s not my fault he’s not good at it.”

“Hey,” Jon complained, taking the whole bowl of popcorn and setting it next to him on the couch, where Damian couldn’t reach it.

“Master Damian!  You would do well to remember your manners.”

With as angry as Alfred sounded, Damian knew there was no real ire underlining the sentiment.  Jon, however, wasn’t quite as familiar with the butler’s moods.

Jon had spent the last three days at the manor.  After Batman’s discovery of the mobile crime scenes, the news had gone out to all Justice League affiliates.  After a concerted effort, the entire North American cell of Pure Earth had been dismantled and captured.  That was when problems had arisen overseas.  Superman, Green Lantern, and Wonder Woman had been scouring the globe, trying to put out hot spots of anti-hero activity.  Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, and Black Canary were getting ready to join them.

Clark had sent Jon to stay at the manor, figuring it would be the safest place for his son, in case Pure Earth made a comeback.  With Lois touring the country on a book tour, everyone felt that this was the safest place for Jon.

“It’s okay, Mr. Alfred,” Jon said nervously at Alfred’s tone, “He’s being nice to me, honest.”

Alfred turned to Damian and gave him a small wink, “Be sure you are, Master Damian.  It is such a nice day outside.  Surely the two of you scamps can find something more active to do.”

Damian turned to Jon and said, “It’s up to you, Jon.”

“Really,” Jon asked.

“Sure,” Damian replied, “He’s right, it did look like it would be a nice day today.”

Jon sighed, “I’d love to go swimming.”

“What’s stopping you,” Damian asked.

Jon glanced at Damian’s cast, “Well, you can’t go in the pool while in a cast.”

Damian shook his head, “No, but I can watch from a deck chair.”

“That’s not really fair to you, though,” Jon said, then looked down, “If I’d caught you, you wouldn’t have broken your ankle at all.”

Damian cocked his head at his friend, “Jon, you don’t blame yourself for my broken ankle, do you?”

Jon shrugged, “I was standing right there, and I didn’t do anything while you fell right in front of me.”

Damian grabbed Jon’s shoulder, “Jon, it was an accident.  These things happen.  No one it to blame for this.”

“You’re not mad at me for not catching you?”

Damian shook his head, “If I’m mad at anyone, it’s me.  If I’d taught all of you properly in how to parachute, I would have been able to avoid the trees altogether.”

Jon looked down for a minute before asking, “Is it…is it getting better?”

Damian smiled, “It’s healed.  If you want to come with us, I get the cast off tomorrow.”

Jon cocked his head, “How long has it been healed?  Why didn’t you get the cast off before, if it’s all healed?”

“I found out last Friday,” Damian said, “We left the cast on to let it get a bit stronger.  Tomorrow’s the day, though.”

Jon gave a bright smile, “That’s awesome.  Let’s hold off on the pool until tomorrow, then.”

“Sounds good,” Damian said, “Hey, I know something you’ll like.  Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“We’ll be back for dinner, Alfred,” was called out as the back door was opened and closed.  Alfred looked out the kitchen window as the two youths walked away from the house; one hobbling, the other nearly skipping.  Jon’s loose blue Superman tank top nearly shone in the bright sunlight, while Damian’s almost skintight black tank top suited the teen perfectly.  Though unheard, Alfred could tell that the boys were talking and laughing.

_Good,_ Alfred thought, _they needed to get out of that game room, and be outside in the sunlight, as boys should be on a day like this.  I see a trip to bovine country is in the works.  I’m sure his father’s affinity for livestock has rubbed off on Master Jonathan.  It really is too bad that Master Damian couldn’t have made friends who live a little closer than Metropolis._

“What are you staring at, Alfred?”

Alfred started in shock as Bruce’s voice sounded behind him.  He waved the man over to the window to watch the boys walk out of sight.

Bruce smiled, “Ah, the joys of youth.  I expected to find them plastered to the TV in the game room.”

Alfred gave a matching smile, “If you had come home an hour ago, that is exactly where you would have found them.  Speaking of which, you are home a bit early, Master Bruce.  It’s not even three yet.”

Bruce shrugged, “It’s my company, and on a day like today, I didn’t want to spend my time with the people at my company.  Frankly, I wanted to spend some time with my son.”

Alfred held his contented sigh, but said, “Good luck with that, sir.  As the boys were leaving, Master Damian called out that they would be back for dinner.  I didn’t get the impression that they would be returning before that.  Perhaps tonight would be a good one for the summer barbeque you spoke of last week?”

Bruce nodded, “Good idea, Alfred.  Where were the boys off to?”

“They didn’t say, but the only thing of interest for Master Damian in that direction are the old stables.”

“Ah, a visit to Batcow,” Bruce said with a grin, “Jon’s influence, no doubt.”

Alfred matched the grin, “I would not be surprised, sir.  It seems I now have a barbeque to prepare.  Why don’t you get changed and relax, sir?”

Bruce took a step closer, “Why don’t I get changed and help you out?”

Alfred blushed a bit, “I would be most appreciative, Master Bruce.”

_After Dinner…_

The family sat back at the patio table following the excellent meal.  Night was approaching, but everyone seemed content where they were.

“That was some good stuff, Alfred,” Jason said while rubbing his stomach.

“Thank you, Master Jason,” the butler replied, “I’ll give you a few minutes before I bring out your dessert.”

Alfred headed back up to the house with a stack of plates.  Jon looked around and asked, “Shouldn’t we help him?”

Dick smiled as he reached over and patted Jon’s back, “If Alfred heard you say that, he would be horrified.  You’re a guest here, Jon.  There are a lot of things he won’t let you do for yourself.  He will, however, be pleased that you asked.  Alfred just won’t show it.”

“Oh,” Jon said, “Okay.”

Damian could tell from the look on Jon’s face that something was still bothering him.  “What’s up, Jon?”

Jon looked at the table, “I, um, told my mom I would call her after dinner.”

Damian shrugged, “So, call her.”

“I left my phone up in your room,” Jon said softly.

“Did you need help finding it, or can you make it on your own,” Bruce asked, knowing how intimidating his home could be, even to guests who frequented the manor as often as Jon did.

“Um, I think I can make it on my own,” Jon said uncertainly.

Dick smiled, “I’m going in to use the bathroom.  Do you want to go with me?”  Jon looked at Dick strangely before the man said, “To find Damian’s room, not to go to the bathroom with me.”

Jon’s look cleared, “Oh!  Yeah, thanks.”

The pair left, and Damian shook his head, “Sometimes, he is just too naïve.”

“Is that any way to talk about your best friend,” Jason said with a smirk.

“Just pointing out a fact.”

Bruce smiled, “The Boy Scout raised a Cub Scout.  If Lois wasn’t around, that kid would have no street smarts at all.”

Damian turned to Bruce, changing the subject, “Hey, Father?”

“Hey, son?”

Damian gave an involuntary smile, “Are you taking me to my appointment tomorrow?”

Bruce sighed, “Unfortunately, no.  Your appointment is at nine. I’ll be in a sales meeting from eight to one.  By nine o’clock, I’ll be wishing I was with you, though.”

Damian looked down, “Oh.  Okay, Father.”

Bruce didn’t like the look on Damian’s face, “I’ll give you a call on our break.  You can let me know how it went.”

“Okay,” Damian said softly.

Bruce reached over and squeezed Damian’s shoulder, “If we didn’t have this meeting scheduled for tomorrow, I would be there.  Unfortunately, this meeting was on the books before you broke your leg.”

“It’s okay, Father, really,” Damian said.

“Then why don’t you sound okay?”

Damian turned away, “I just wanted you there, that’s all.”

Bruce released a contented breath, “Thank you, son.  I’ll be home as soon as I can tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t,” Damian said, “You’ll work late, because you left early today.”

“I’ll get him home on time, Damian,” Tim said.

“Thanks,” Damian said as he stood and walked over to a deck chair to lay down.

“He’s really turning into a little Dick,” Jason said.

Bruce turned to his second son and said, “Jason, that really isn’t…oh.  You meant Dick, not dick.”

Jason smirked at his adoptive father, knowing Bruce would react exactly that way to the comment.

Several minutes later, Jon and Dick returned to the patio.  Jon looked around, confused, until Bruce pointed towards the pool.  Jon turned and saw Damian laying on a deck chair.

Bruce smiled at the youth and hitched his head at his son, “It’s okay, Jon.  Go ahead.  You didn’t miss dessert.”

Jon smiled and trotted off towards his friend.

Dick leaned over and asked, “What happened?”

“I’m not taking him to get his cast off tomorrow,” Bruce said.

“The meeting,” Dick asked.

Bruce nodded, “I guess he wanted me to take him.”

“He’ll forgive you after you take him on his first patrol,” Jason said.

“You’re probably right,” Bruce replied.

_Meanwhile…_

Jon approached Damian hesitantly.  The mood was different than it had been when he went to call his mother, and the boy hoped there hadn’t been a fight while he was gone.

“Pull up a chair, Jon,” Damian said, not looking at the younger boy.

Jon pulled a lounger over next to Damian’s, laid down, and folded his arms behind his head.  Damian had pulled off his tank top and folded it up to use as a pillow on the hard wood chair.

“What are you doing,” Jon asked.

Damian still didn’t look over, “Watching the sunset.”

Jon relaxed a bit at the relatively normal answer.  “Oh.  What happened while I was gone?”

Damian just barely stifled his sigh, “Father isn’t taking us to my appointment tomorrow.  He has a meeting.  I was hoping he was going to take us.”

_I can understand that,_ Jon thought.  “Oh.  Well, I’m sure he wants to take you, he just has to work, or something.”

Damian did sigh this time, “I’m not upset.  I should be used to this by now.  He’s just…been around more lately.  I got my hopes up that something had changed.  Now that he’s around more, I like having him around.”

Jon looked away, “Yeah.”

Damian turned his head to look at his friend.  Jon’s tone had dropped dramatically.  _He actually has an almost normal family.  Being away from them must be hard for him._   “How’s your Mother?”

Jon shrugged, “Good, I guess.  She says she misses me.”

“I’m sure she isn’t just saying that,” Damian said, “I’m sure she really does miss you.”

Jon turned back and tried to smile, “I know.  I just miss them.”

“It’s okay to miss them, Jon.  Have you heard from your Father?”

Jon pulled his own tank top off in the humid evening air and crumpled it up to use as his own pillow, “He said he would call, but I missed it.  Dad isn’t good at remembering time zones.  He called me at three o’clock this morning, and didn’t answer when I called him back at nine.”

Damian shrugged, “When you can travel around the world in a couple minutes and don’t really need sleep, I guess time zones don’t really matter.”

“Not really,” Jon agreed.

Damian and Jon stared at a couple passing high clouds as they took on rich red and magenta tones from the setting sun.  Alfred brought over two bowls of chocolate ice cream for the boys.  Damian idly wondered how Alfred knew Jon’s favorite flavor seemingly without anyone telling him.  Jon just enjoyed the treat, inhaling it fast enough to give Damian a brain freeze by proxy.

Neither boy noticed that they were alone in the yard until Damian sat up and put his empty bowl on the table next to him.  Jon handed over his bowl, then asked, “What do you want to do tonight?”

Damian laid back and sighed, “What I want to do and what I can do are two different things.”

Jon looked down, “You wanted to go patrolling?”

“I always want to do that.  I was actually thinking of your earlier suggestion.”

Jon racked his brain, but came up empty, “What did I suggest?”

“Swimming,” Damian said.

Jon looked over at Damian, “I thought you couldn’t do that.”

“I can’t,” Damian said, “That’s why I said what I want to do and what I can do are two different things.”

“Oh, right,” Jon said.

Damian turned and gave a smile, “Tomorrow.  We’ll go swimming tomorrow, after I get my cast off.”

“Really,” Jon asked excitedly.

“Really.”

“Cool.  So, what should we do tonight?”

“Pick something,” Damian said with a shrug.

Jon looked away again, “This is usually our family game night.”

Damian nodded, “Jai told me about that.  Why don’t you pick a game, and we’ll see if Dick and Tim want to join us?  At least, before they go on patrol.”

Jon spoke sheepishly, “Um, do you think your dad would play with us?”

Damian smirked, “Bruce Wayne, playing games?  The paparazzi would have a field day with that one.  If you really want him to play with us, then I’m not the one you should be asking.”

Jon cocked his head, “I think I would be too nervous to ask him myself.”

“I meant Dick,” Damian said, “Dick can talk him into almost anything.  A board game would probably be the most normal request Dick has ever made of him.”

Alfred walked out to the boys and said, “Are you two planning on spending the night out here?  I can arrange for a tent and sleeping bags, if they are needed.”

Jon looked ready to jump at the offer.  Damian didn’t see the excited look on Jon’s face, and said, “You know I’m not a fan of sleeping outdoors, Alfred.  It was a very nice sunset, though.”

Alfred smiled at his young charge, “Taking after your father again, I see.”

Alfred picked up the empty bowls before handing Damian his cell phone.  “That has been ringing on and off for the past hour.  I also must remind you that Miss Lance will be here in thirty minutes.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “I forgot.  Thank you, Alfred.”

The butler said, “If you would like to postpone, I’m sure your Father can make the arrangements.”

Damian thought hard for a minute, “I should postpone, so I’m not ignoring my guest, but…I think I really need to talk to her.”

Alfred looked back and forth between the boys before saying, “As you wish.”

Alfred returned to the house, and Jon asked, “Who is Miss Lance?  Is she, like, a tutor or something?”

Damian sighed as he sat up, “No, she’s not a tutor.  Dinah Lance, Black Canary…I’ve been seeing her.”

Jon sat up and turned to face Damian.  Crossing his legs on the chair, Jon asked, “What do you mean, seeing her?”

Damian leaned forward, “Jon, I, um, I want to tell you a secret.  It has to remain a secret, though.  Very few people know this, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Then, why are you telling me,” Jon asked.

Damian closed his eyes, “Because you’re my friend, and I trust you.”

Jon gave a whispered, “Wow.”

Damian opened his eyes again, “Do you remember last year, when most of the League went off on an emergency rescue mission?”

Jon nodded, “Yeah.  Dad said you and Tim got captured on patrol and were being held hostage.  He wouldn’t talk about it when he got home.  He only told me not to ask you about it.”

Damian nodded, “Well, without getting into too many details, we were captured.  They tortured us for the entire time they had us.  That’s where I got this,” Damian fingered his scarred shoulder lightly.

“That whole experience…it really got to me.  It messed with my head, and I wasn’t right for a long time.  I still don’t know if I’m right yet.  Dinah Lance, among other things, is a certified counselor.  I’ve, um, I’ve been in therapy since Tim and I were rescued.”

Jon’s jaw was hanging open at the admission.  He knew how private his friend kept his life, and that just made the admission that much more important.  “You’re in therapy?”

Damian nodded slowly, “That experience brought up a lot of bad things from my past.  I couldn’t handle it all on my own, and I couldn’t hold it all inside anymore.  Father found this as a way to help me.”

“Is Tim in therapy, too,” Jon asked.

Damian took a deep breath, “No, he isn’t.  I had it far worse than he did during the torture, and…well, he doesn’t have as many skeletons in his closet as I do.”

Jon leaned forward and asked softly, “Has it helped?”

Damian turned in his chair and met Jon’s eyes, “Yeah, I think it has.  When I first started, Dinah and I were meeting daily.  It took two weeks just to process the kidnapping, before we could move on to working on more of my deeper issues.  We’ve worked our way down to meeting three or four times a month, but lately, it’s been less.”

“I don’t believe this,” Jon said, stunned at what he was hearing.

“It hasn’t been easy for me,” Damian said, “but I’ve learned that sharing like this only makes you vulnerable for a short time.  Everyone who knows has been very supportive.  I think the fact that I’m accepting something like therapy is the only reason I’m still allowed to be in charge of the team.”

Jon looked down sheepishly and said, “Well, that and the fact that all of us have told the Justice League that we won’t continue our team training without you.”

Damian shook his head, “That doesn’t make me feel better, Jon.  That makes it sound like the League has already tried to take the team from me at least once already.”

Jon winced, “That came out wrong.  You see, a while back, when you were running late for one of our trainings, Dad asked us if there were any changes we wanted to see in the team.  We got a little nervous, because you were really late that night, so we told Dad that you had to stay as our teacher.  Only after we said that did Dad tell us that they weren’t thinking about getting rid of you.”

Damian nodded, “Oh.  Well, I guess I should tell you that most of the times that I’m late isn’t because we’re going over the lesson plan, as you all have been told.  It’s because my therapy sessions are running long.  The League has been covering for my inability to cope on my own.”

The boys fell quiet for several minutes before Jon worked up the nerve to ask, “What happened?  What happened to you when you were kidnapped that hurt you so bad?”

Damian gasped at the question, “I’m not going to answer that, Jon.  I can’t.  I don’t want to go through that again.”

Jon winced at the reply, and muttered, “Sorry.”

Damian sighed, “I won’t tell you what happened, but I will tell you who did it.  That will actually tell you more about the situation than just answering your last question.”  Jon turned and stared at Damian, quietly attentive.  Damian took a deep breath and tried to stop his lower lip from quivering as he said, “Tim and I were kidnapped and tortured by my Mother.”

Jon gasped deeply as Damian stared at his lap.  He expected a litany of follow-up questions, but Jon was too shocked to ask any.

_His mother?  I didn’t even know his mother was still alive.  He’s never talked about her.  If she tortured him, then I can see why.  Now…it makes me wonder about his scars.  I’ve never asked where he actually got all of them.  Could she have tortured him more than once?  Stop, Jon.  You absolutely cannot ask him something like that.  No wonder he’s in therapy.  I can’t even imagine my mother being capable of something like that._

Jon reached out hesitantly, pulling his hand back four times before plowing ahead and gently resting his hand on Damian’s shoulder.  The younger boy’s hand covered the long scar Talia had inflicted during Damian’s torture.  Their eyes met and Jon said softly, “I won’t tell anyone.  I’ll keep your secret.”

Damian reached up and patted the hand on his shoulder, “I know.  That’s why I knew it was safe to tell you.  I trust you.”

Alfred walked out of the back door of the manor again, and Damian winced.  _Just how long were we talking?_

“Is she here,” Damian asked.

“For the past ten minutes, young sir.”

Damian winced again, “Damn.  Sorry.”

“You should apologize to her, not me,” Alfred said.

Damian nodded, “I will.  Speaking of apologies, can you take a picture of Jon and I?  I’ll need photographic evidence to back up why I haven’t called Robin in a while.”

Damian handed his phone to Alfred and threw an arm around Jon’s shoulders, pulling him closer as they sat in their lounge chairs next to the pool.  Alfred took the picture, wishing he could take one with his own camera, but knowing to ask would be out of place.

“I guess it’s time we go in,” Damian said, “Will you be okay for an hour or so on your own?”

Jon smiled as both boys pulled their shirts back on and headed for the house.  “I’ll be fine.  You don’t have to spend _all_ your time with me, you know.  No one can accuse you of not being a good, attentive host.  I’ve been here for three days, and you’ve spent nearly every waking moment with me, and all of the sleeping moments.  You didn’t have to let me sleep in your room.”

Damian shrugged, “You’re afraid of the guest room.”

“And you have more stuff going on than just needing to play with me.”

Damian stopped just outside of the back door.  Jon stopped with him as Damian said, “It has been nice, though.  It makes me wonder if this is what a normal life would have been like, if I’d been allowed to have friends as a child.”

Jon smiled and hitched his head at the house, “Go on.  You don’t want to keep the doctor waiting.”

Damian nodded with a smile and entered the house.

Jon stopped just inside the back door and watched as Damian walked towards the cave.  For as much as he told his friend he would be fine, Jon actually had no idea of what to do on his own in Stately Wayne Manor.

“He told you, didn’t he?”

The surprise voice startled Jon, and he barely stopped himself from jumping in shock.  However, two gentle hands landed on Jon’s shoulders and pressed down, lowering the boy gently from the three-inch height he was floating off of the floor.  Once his feet were firmly on the floor again, Jon turned and found Dick standing behind him.

Dick smiled at the boy, “Sorry about that.  Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon released a breath, “Uncle Dick, I didn’t see you there.”

Dick nodded, “I know.  Your attention was somewhere else, and I think I know where.  He told you.”

“Told me what,” Jon asked.

Dick looked off in the direction Damian had walked, “Where he’s going right now.”

Jon blushed a bit, “Oh.  Yeah, he did.  I couldn’t believe it.  I mean, he didn’t tell me everything…”

“I’m sure he told you a lot more than he would tell a normal person,” Dick interrupted.

Jon looked up strangely, “I’m not normal?”

Dick took a step forward and pulled Jon into a soft hug, “No, you’re special.  He trusts you a lot.”

Jon shrugged, “He only told me because Dinah came while I was here.”

Dick smirked, “Are you sure?  Didn’t Alfred give him an opportunity to reschedule his appointment?”

“How did you know that,” Jon asked.

“Alfred told us he was going to,” Dick replied.

Jon looked confused, “So, what does that mean?”

Dick looked down at Jon with a warm smile, “Damian would only allow a brother to get as close as the two of you are.”

Jon gasped deeply, his eyes wide, “A brother?  But, I’m…we’re not…”

Dick’s smile grew, “You should know that family doesn’t stop with the people who gave birth to you.  Don’t sell yourself short, Jon, Damian thinks a lot more of you than you know.”

“Wow,” Jon whispered, trying to wrap his head around what he just heard.

Dick gave him a second to think before gently turning Jon down the hall, “Come on, Tim is setting up a game of Sorry for us in the Game Room.”

_Meanwhile…_

Damian stopped outside of the grandfather clock and smiled at the picture Alfred had taken of the two boys.  He attached it to a text message to the butler, with the caption, ‘I saw the look on your face when you took this.  It seemed like you wanted a copy.’

Damian then attached it to another message, this one for Robin, and typed, ‘Sorry we haven’t talked in a couple days.  Jon has been here since Sunday.  Can’t talk now, I’m late for therapy, but I’ll call you when I’m done.  Love you.’

Damian barely had the time to open the secret passageway before Robin replied to his message.  ‘I don’t know which of you two is cuter.  Take care of yourself, then call me.  Miss you.’

Damian smiled at the message and walked into the cave.  Bruce and Dinah were standing at the computer, talking.

Dinah glanced over at the approaching teen and gave a grin.  “Well, someone looks happy.  I didn’t know if you were going to join us.”

Damian stopped next to his father and said, “I just got a funny message from my girlfriend.  It put me in a better mood.  I apologize for being late tonight.”

Dinah nodded, “Bruce told me you have a guest.  We can postpone this if you want.”

Damian shook his head, “No.  After this past weekend, I feel I need to talk to you.”

Bruce gripped Damian’s shoulder and said, “You two might want to use the training room if you want some privacy.  Your brothers and I will start getting ready for patrol in about forty-five minutes.”

Bruce turned to leave, but Damian grabbed his shirt, “Wait, Father.  I’d like you to stay tonight.”

Dinah smiled at the comment.  Bruce turned to look down at his son, “Are you sure?  You’ve always wanted complete privacy for your sessions.”

Damian met Bruce’s eyes, “I wanted to talk about the, um, cold case tonight.  Maybe you can offer some insight on what happened, both with the case and with what it caused with Tim.”

Dinah looked at the men oddly, thinking, _what happened with Tim?_

Bruce gave a short nod and sat in his computer chair.  Damian climbed up in his lap as Bruce said, “Let’s get started.”

_Wednesday…_

The door to exam room three opened, catching the attention of the men inside the room.  Leslie smiled as she read Damian’s chart.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.  My last appointment ran…oh, hello.”

Leslie closed the door behind her, surprised at the sight of the second boy in the room with her patient and the butler.

Damian turned and said, “Dr. Thompkins, this is…”

“I remember,” Leslie interrupted, “How are you feeling, Jon?”

Jon’s eyes widened in near-panic.  He leaned over to Damian and asked, “Damian, what’s going on?  Why is she here?”

Damian smirked, “Dr. Thompkins is our family doctor.  She has cared for all of us since Father was young.”

Jon was confused, but looked up and said, “Um, hi.”

Leslie came closer and set Damian’s cast on the exam table, “I can’t imagine you see doctors too often, Jon.  Even so, I can’t make a living on just the visits from these guys.”

Alfred shrugged, “I’m not so sure about that.  These boys are injured far too often for my liking.”

“Mine too, Alfred,” Leslie agreed, “You ready, Damian?”

The teen nodded, “I was ready weeks ago.”

“Your ankle wasn’t,” Leslie replied as she pulled out the saw, “Did you want to do the honors again?”

Jon looked confused and asked, “What honors?”

Damian grinned, “The last time I broke my leg, Dr. Thompkins let me cut my own cast off.  I’ll let you have that little enjoyment this time, Doctor.”

Leslie shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

A minute later, Damian’s leg was exposed again.  Damian gave a pleased smile, “Ahh, that’s better.”

Leslie squeezed Damian’s ankle lightly, “Does that hurt?”

Damian shook his head, “It doesn’t really hurt.  It tingles a bit, but you said that was normal last time.”

“Yes, I did,” Leslie said with a nod.  “Try moving your ankle.  Slowly, please.”

Damian tried moving his foot and winced, “It’s stiff.”

“Normal,” Leslie said, “Range of motion looks good.  Stand up, try bearing weight.  You’ve been walking, so it shouldn’t feel too different.”

Damian slid off of the exam table and let both feet hit the tile floor a little harder than Dr. Thompkins would have liked.  After a second, Damian jerked his foot off the floor.

Jon gasped and asked “What’s wrong?”

Damian sat on the exam table again, “The floor’s cold.”  Damian took the sock and shoe he remembered to bring this time and put them on.  Standing again, Damian said, “Feel’s okay.  Only a little pain and weakness.  That will go away.”

Leslie eyed Damian, “A little pain for you, or a little pain for a normal person?”

Damian smiled, “For a normal person.  Really, it feels good.”

Leslie made a note in Damian’s chart, “Good.  I didn’t think there would be any complications.  I know what your next question is, and the answer is no.  Not tonight.  Give it until Friday before you…go out, please.  I want all of the pain and stiffness and weakness gone before you go jumping off of buildings again.”

Damian eyed the doctor, then nodded, “That’s probably a good idea.”

Leslie glanced up at the too-easily given agreement, “Okay.”  She turned to Jon and said, “Jon, you never answered my question earlier.  Are you feeling alright?”

Jon started at being addressed by the doctor, “Oh, yeah, I’m okay now.  That…stuff really hurt, but I’m okay.”

Leslie smiled at the younger boy, “Good.  You’re all done.  Let me know if you need anything else bandaged, casted, or otherwise fixed.”

Damian accepted a hug from the doctor, “Thank you, Dr. Thompkins.”

“Jon, I expect you to keep this one in line,” the doctor said with a smile.

Jon giggled, “I will, Doctor.”

Alfred opened the door to the exam room, and Leslie said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don’t see any of you for a long time.”

“Not in this office, at least,” Alfred said, “but you have a standing dinner invitation anytime you wish to use it, Doctor.”

“You know I’ll take you up on that, Alfred,” the woman said with a smile.

Damian pulled his phone out of his pocket as the trio stepped out of the office and into the bright late-morning sunlight.  “Hello?”

“Girlfriend,” Jon asked quietly.

Damian shook his head, “Hello, Father.”

“How’s the leg,” Bruce asked.

“We’re leaving Dr. Thompkins’ office right now.  It feels pretty good.”

“Yeah,” Bruce asked happily.  “Good job, kiddo.  So, are you all cleared?”

_That’s the closest he’s going to get to asking about patrolling over a civilian line._   “No.  Dr. Thompkins wants me to take it easy until Friday, but after that, I’m good.”

“That’s good news, son,” Bruce said.

“How’s your meeting going,” Damian asked.

Bruce sighed heavily, “Remember when I took you to the negotiation in Morocco?  About that good.”

Damian hissed at the memory, “That good, huh?  Will Alfred be picking you up from the office, or the hospital tonight?”

Bruce gave an unseen smile, “Okay, maybe not _that_ bad.  It just seems like Dick, Tim, and I are the only ones who actually prepared for this meeting.”

“Don’t go through with it if it feels wrong, Father,” Damian said with concern in his voice.

“It might be going that way, son,” Bruce said with a nod.  “So, what is on your agenda, now that you have two working legs again?”

Damian smiled at Jon as they both got into the back of Alfred’s Mercedes, “I made Jon a promise yesterday, and today looks like a good day to keep it.”

“Well, have fun, boys,” Bruce said before hanging up.

_Back at Stately Wayne Manor…_

Damian and Jon walked up the stairs towards the bedrooms after arriving back home.  Jon nudged Damian lightly and asked, “How does it feel?”

Damian shrugged, “It’s fine.”

Jon’s smile grew, “I hate to tell you this, but your leg stinks.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You’ve never had a cast before, have you?”

“No.”

Damian nodded, “This is actually not bad, compared to other casts I’ve had.  You can’t wash under a cast, so the dirt, and the sweat, and the smells build up.”

Jon looked up from Damian’s leg, “Are you going to take a shower before we do whatever you had in mind?”

Damian shook his head, “That would defeat the purpose.”

Jon stared at Damian strangely as Damian went through Jon’s bag.  “What are you doing?  What is this promise you told your dad about?”

Damian stood up, holding a pair of trunks, “We’re going swimming.”

“Yeah,” Jon crowed happily, “Let’s go!”

Jon snatched the trunks and ran to the bathroom to change.  Damian changed in his closet, and both boys trotted to the back door.

Both boys slid to a stop as Alfred stepped out of the kitchen, into their path.

“Gee, Mr. Alfred, we almost ran you over,” Jon said.

Alfred held up a bottle of sunscreen and said, “You are finally injury free, Master Damian.  I don’t want you to risk any further injuries.”

Damian sighed as Alfred began rubbing sunscreen on the teen’s shoulders, “I hardly consider a sunburn an injury, Alfred.”

Alfred gave the smallest of smiles, “Be that as it may, you do have a tendency to burn, Master Damian.”

Alfred spread the cream over Damian’s back, then turned to Jon, “Master Jonathan, are you prone to sunburns?”

Jon gave a nervous giggle, “Well, actually…”

Damian cocked his head, “Wait, really?  You draw your powers from the sun, and still get sunburned?”

Jon shrugged, “It must be Mom’s influence.”

Alfred noticed that Jon fidgeted far less than Damian when he applied the sunblock.  _Quite even-tempered, this one.  Then again, Master Damian has never been comfortable with people touching his scars.  Still, he has calmed quite a bit.  Having a friend has done wonders for his disposition._

“There you are, all set.  Have fun, boys.  Lunch is in two hours.  I will let you know when it is ready.”

Alfred could barely make it out of the way in time to not be bowled over by the brightly smiling youths.

_Friday…_

Jon walked into Damian’s room to find Damian laying on his bed.

“Hey, D.”

Damian held up a finger, and Jon saw the phone pressed to Damian’s ear.

“You liked that picture?  See, I told you the cast was gone…Yeah…We’ll have to talk to Father to see when we can get together again…Miss you, too.  Love you, Robin.”

The boys had taken some time today to make a couple calls.  Jon had been missing his mother, and gave Lois a call after dinner.  Damian decided to make a call of his own while Jon was similarly occupied.  Jon obviously got done first.

“Was that Robin?”

Damian smirked, “What gave it away?”

Jon blushed a bit, “Well, you did call her Robin at the end of the call.”

“The power of deductive reasoning,” Damian said with a snort of laughter.

Jon smiled, “Hey, you aren’t the only detective around here.”

Damian shook his head as he sat up, “Right.  How’s your mother?”

Jon’s smile grew, “She only has one more stop on her book tour.  She’s going to pick me up on Sunday.”

The news, while expected, came as a shock to Damian.  “Oh.  That’s good, I guess.”

Jon cocked his head, “Are you okay?”

Damian sighed, “I just got used to having you here.”

“Are you saying you’re going to miss me,” Jon asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Damian said, “but it is an accurate assessment.”

Jon walked closer as Damian stood, “I’m going to miss you, too.  This is the first time I’ve been able to experience what it’s like to have a brother.”

Damian smirked at Jon, confusing the boy.

“What,” Jon asked.

Damian shook his head again, “This isn’t what it’s like to have a brother.  Not in my experience, at least.”

“What’s it really like,” Jon asked.

Damian faced Jon and lightly pushed one of his shoulders.  It wasn’t enough to knock the boy down, but it was enough to turn the youth a bit.  “What are you doing?”

Damian pushed Jon again and said, “In my experience, the youngest always gets picked on.”

Damian pushed Jon again, and the younger boy laughed, “Keep it up and I’ll push back.”

Damian came close to laughing as he pushed Jon’s other shoulder this time, “Oh?  You think you can?”

Jon nodded, “I can push just a bit harder than you.  We can see if we can make that cartoon hole in your wall in the shape of you.”

Both boys pushed each other lightly, biting their lips to keep from laughing out loud, until Bruce growled from the bedroom door, “Stop.”

The boys froze in place as Bruce stepped between them.  “I should have seen this coming.  You two have been doing so well this week.  What happened to start you arguing?”

“We’re not arguing,” Jon said.

_They really don’t look mad,_ Bruce thought.

Damian looked up and said, “Jon is being picked up on Sunday.  He said he liked seeing what it’s like to have a brother.  I was just giving him the full experience.”

Bruce sighed and shook his head, while inside he was laughing at the situation.  “Your brotherly experience hasn’t exactly been normal, Damian.”

“Compared to mine, it’s a lot,” Jon said.

“So, I don’t need to separate you two,” Bruce asked.

Jon shook his head, “No.  In fact, I think that’s the last thing either of us wants.”

“Damian?”

“This has been an enjoyable week, Father.  I would like it to continue.”

Bruce smiled.  _Having a friend has done more for Damian than having brothers has.  I’ll have to talk to Clark about getting them together more often._

“Okay.  Are you both ready?”

Both boys gasped, and Damian thought, _my first patrol since the accident._   “Yes, Father.”

“I’m ready,” said Jon.

“Then, let’s go.”

Bruce led the boys out of Damian’s room and down the stairs.

Damian said, “You know, Father, Kent will kill you for taking Jon out on the streets of Gotham City.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “First, he brought his uniform for a reason.  Second, you won’t let anything happen to your friend.  Third, what Clark doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

“Not yet,” Damian said as Bruce opened the clock.

They walked down into the cave, and Bruce said, “We’re just doing a standard patrol tonight, boys.  Nothing fancy until we know your ankle is good to go.”

Damian cocked his head, “Dr. Thompkins said I could patrol tonight.  You know she wouldn’t have said that unless I was ready.”

Bruce sighed, “I know.  I just don’t like you coming home injured.”

Damian nodded, “We’ll take it easy, Father.”

“Let’s get changed and check the board.”

Bruce, Damian, and Jon transformed into Batman, Robin, and Superboy before gathering around the Bat Computer.

“What’s The Board,” Jon asked.

Bruce hacked into the Gotham City Police Department’s system and said, “The Board.  The GCPD’s hot list.  Current crimes and tips that the local police are following.  We use this to get a jump on what the police are looking into.”

“That’s cool,” Jon said, “What are we going to look at?”

Bruce highlighted an entry on the list and said, “Carjacking ring in the Financial District.”

Damian smiled, “We haven’t busted a Chop Shop in a while.  That should be fun.”

Bruce shook his head, “On the way, you can tell Jon all the dangers of a Chop Shop, since you think this will be so fun.”

Damian shrugged, “I’m okay with that.”

“Then, let’s go,” Bruce said, then stopped as the Zeta Tube powered up.

The man and two boys stared at the equipment as the computer announced Superman’s arrival in the cave.  The Man of Steel materialized and looked around the space.

“DAD,” Jon shouted as he flew across the space.

Superman caught his son in midair and held him tightly, “Oh, I’ve missed you, Jonno.”

Damian sighed at the sight, and Bruce asked softly, “What is it?”

Damian didn’t look up, “I thought I had two more days.  His mother gets back on Sunday.”

Bruce smiled warmly, a strange look for a man who was just a cowl away from being Batman.  “I’m going to talk to Clark about you two getting together more often.  I like how you act when you’re around Jon.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Damian whispered in a tone barely heard by Bruce.

Still hugging his son, Clark flew across the cave to the waiting father and son.  “I’m glad I caught you before you went out.  Damian, you got your cast off.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “On Wednesday.  Tonight, it’s my first patrol.”

Clark looked at Bruce with concern on his face, “Wait, you were going to take Jon?”

Bruce shrugged, “I wasn’t going to take Damian and leave Jon here alone with Alfred.”

“Is it something big,” Clark asked.

Jon smiled, “We were going to hit a Chop Shop.”

Bruce shook his head, “Low level stuff, nothing too important.”

“Can it wait,” Clark asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

Bruce picked up on the change in tone, “What do you have?  At last report, you were cleaning Pure Earth out of Europe.”

“We were,” Clark said, “but things have changed.  I need you, now.”

Bruce looked down at Damian, then back up at Clark, “What about the boys?”

Clark stared at his son for a long second, “Bring them along.  This concerns them, too.”

“What’s going on, Clark?”

Clark sighed as he set Jon down, “Pure Earth has changed tactics again.  If we hurry, we can get ahead of them.  Their last escalation was nothing compared to what they’re doing now.”

 

**A/N:  Let’s see here.  Pure Earth has used stalking, sneak attacks, kidnapping, hacking, torture, murder, and dismemberment.  What could they possibly do next that would have Superman so concerned?  I guess you will just have to wait for the next chapter to find out.**

**Oh, and the negotiation in Morocco refers back to my work Bruce and Damian’s Excellent Adventure, if you were interested.**

**I realize this chapter was mostly filler, but I like it.  As you might be able to tell, there was a lot edited out of this, to keep it from dragging too much.  I have written my eighth, and hopefully final, outline for the remaining chapters in this story.  If all goes well, we are looking at two to three more chapters in this one.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	14. 14

Hero Hunt

Chapter 14

_The following takes place immediately after chapter 13._

Clark started heading for the Zeta Tube when Bruce asked, “Now, just wait a minute.  You need to explain a little more than that, Clark.  What is going on?”

Clark stopped and turned back to Bruce, “Something unprecedented has happened.  For the first time in our existence, the Russian Government has reached out to the Justice League for help.”

Bruce did a double take with his eyes as wide as they could get, “Are you serious?  They’ve always called us the U.N.’s lapdog, and forbade our entry into Russia.”

Clark nodded, “They changed their tune, now that Pure Earth is operating within their borders.  The Russian cell must be huge, for the number of targets that have been identified.”  Clark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m not sure we can stop them all.”

Damian shook his head, “What are they doing?  How many of them are there?”

“Hundreds of people had to have been needed to set this up, maybe more,” Clark said, “As for what they’re doing, have you ever heard of a little place called Chernobyl?”

Damian gasped, “Y-yeah.  You can’t be serious.”

Jon looked at the adults in confusion, “What’s Chernobyl?”

Bruce took a deep breath, “Chernobyl is the site of a Russian Nuclear Power Plant in Ukraine.  It was also the site of the world’s worst nuclear disaster.  The reactor melted down in 1986, rendering hundreds of square kilometers uninhabitable by humans for the next few centuries.”

Damian looked up at Clark, “Wait, you were complaining about us possibly taking Jon on patrol in Gotham, and _you_ want to take us to Chernobyl?”

“We’re not going to Chernobyl,” Clark said.  “Pure Earth is targeting Russian nuclear facilities, in the hopes of making several new Chernobyl-like sites.”

Damian nodded slowly, “That would be a problem.”

“Where are we going,” Bruce asked.

“Vladivostok.  They’ve had some security breaches at a military site.”

Bruce and Damian’s jaws dropped in unison.  “There’s no way the Russians will let us anywhere near Vladivostok,” Bruce said.

“Why not,” Jon asked.

Damian turned to his friend, “Vladivostok is one of several locations where the Russians house their nuclear submarine fleet.”

Jon looked at Damian strangely, “How do you know that?”

Damian looked around nervously, “I, um, I went there once, on a mission with the, um, my Mother.”

Jon rolled his eyes, “Which means you won’t talk about it.”

“Do I know about this,” Bruce asked carefully.

Damian looked up guiltily, “No, but you probably should.  Don’t worry, there are no bodies attached to this story.  That I know of, at least.”

“Is this a quick story,” Clark asked, “We’re in a bit of a time crunch.”

Damian shrugged, “It can be.  Long story short, the League of Assassins is in possession of a former Russian nuclear submarine.”

Damian winced as he heard what he had said.  He had never said ‘League of Assassins’ in front of any of his friends before.

Bruce’s eyes blazed, “You didn’t think that was something important enough to tell me before?”

Damian read the look on Bruce’s face for a minute, then said, “The Russians didn’t sell Mother the missiles, just the submarine.  The League isn’t a nuclear power.  They just have a really fancy, underwater, undercover base, capable of inflicting Mutually Assured Destruction on the world, if they ever get the nukes.”

The cave was quiet for a minute until Jon nervously asked, “What’s the League of Assassins?”

Damian sighed, turned back to Jon, and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders.  “Jon, that is a very astute question.  It shows that you are paying attention and listening carefully.  Never, ever, utter those words again.  Not only is it a question you should never have an answer to, it is one that is downright dangerous to ask.”

“But, why,” Jon asked.

“Because it isn’t important to our current situation,” Bruce said firmly, trying to cover for his son.  He had known Jon would ask about the League the second the title came out of Damian’s mouth.

Clark shot a short glare at Bruce before resting his hands on Jon’s shoulders, “I’ll talk with you about it later, Jon, when all of this is over.”

Damian’s eyes widened and he broke out in a cold sweat, “You can’t tell him that.”

“Someone has to tell me,” Jon said.

Damian looked up at Clark before looking Jon in the eye, “I’ll tell you, when the time is right, but you have to promise me you won’t go looking for information on your own.  Trust me, Jon.  Please.”

Jon eyed Damian, “Just how many secrets do you have?”

Damian broke eye contact, “I’ve lost count.  That’s not bragging, by the way.”

“I thought you said you trusted me?”

_Damn,_ Damian thought, _why do I feel so bad about trying to protect him from my past?_   “I do, but I’m not going to force you to keep a secret that could put you in danger.  Please, Jon, just let me do this in my own time.”

Jon released an unhappy sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, “Fine.”

Clark looked back and forth between the boys for a second before saying, “Let’s get going.”

Batman pulled on his cowl and Robin applied his mask as Superman and Superboy walked to the Zeta Tube.

“What the hell just happened, Father,” Robin asked softly.

Batman looked down, “You’re going to have to decide what’s more important.  Deciding how much you tell your friends will decide how close your friends are to you.  This is how you build trust, and trust is essential to lasting friendships.”

Robin sighed, “I just hope Jon can trust me after I tell him.”

That surprised Batman, “You’re going to tell him about your time in the League?”

“He’s already asked me about my scars a couple times.  He’s too much like his parents to not look into the League if I don’t tell him.  If I tell him, I can control how curious he gets in the future.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Batman said as they approached the Zeta Tube.

Superman looked at the Bats and said, “I’ve programmed the coordinates.  Let’s go.”

The group stepped into the Tube and were whisked halfway around the world.

_A Hidden Justice League Safehouse…_

Jon looked slightly disoriented as the four heroes stepped out of the Zeta Tube and into a warehouse.

“Where are we,” Jon asked.

“St. Petersburg,” Superman said, not looking at his son.

Batman froze in place, “Why the hell did you bring us to St. Petersburg, when you said the problem is in Vladivostok?”

“You needed to meet up with the rest of the team.”

The newly-arrived heroes turned at the sound of the new voice and found Green Lantern and Wonder Woman approaching.

Superman took a step closer and asked, “Has anything changed in the last half hour?”

Green Lantern shook his head, “Nothing that has been reported to us.  We’ve got clear airspace to Vladivostok, and the Russian military is clearing the area.”

“Why were we called in on this,” Robin asked, “What can we do that the Russian military can’t?”

“They need an explosives expert, and the Russians can’t get one of their own in position in time,” Superman said.

“Let’s go,” Wonder Woman said, “The jet is waiting.”

The group exited the warehouse to find a steel-grey dawn breaking to the east.  Superboy looked around and asked, “How are we getting to the plane?”

Wonder Woman smiled, with her back to the boy, “It’s right here.”

Superboy stopped in his tracks.  Robin nearly ran him over with the quick stop.  “What do you mean?  There’s nothing here,” Superboy said.

“We don’t have time for these games,” Batman said, rolling his eyes under his cowl, “Just open the hatch, Wonder Woman.”

Superman leaned down to speak softly in his son’s ear, “She likes doing this to people, especially those who don’t know that she has an invisible jet.”

A hatch opened out of thin air, causing Superboy’s jaw to drop.  “Whoa,” the boy said.

He leaned over to Robin and hissed, “Hey, Rob.  Did you know she had an invisible jet?”

Robin looked over with a smirk, “Yes, I did, but I’ve never seen it before.”

Robin walked off to join Batman as Superman and Superboy’s jaws dropped.  “He just made a joke in uniform,” Superboy said in awe.

Superman nudged his son, “You must have had a bigger impact on him than you thought over the last week.”

Superboy smiled up at his father, “We had so much fun this week.  Can we do it again sometime?”

Superman placed a hand on Jon’s back, gently directing him towards the plane, “I guarantee it.”

The invisible jet lifted off with Wonder Woman at the controls.  The rest of the League crammed into the too-small cockpit, and Batman asked, “So, what are we looking at?”

Superman said, “Report we got is an explosive mounted to the reactor of a nuclear submarine.  The Russians don’t have an available specialist to handle this, because similar devices have been found at nuclear sites all across the country, and their resources are stretched thin.”

“Doesn’t say much for Russian security,” Robin mumbled.

The comment went mostly ignored as Green Lantern said, “They think the placement is an inside job.  Pure Earth agents inside of the Russian military.  I’ve been assured that the Russians are hunting down the perpetrators, and their treatment will be suitably harsh.”

Batman asked, “We’ve been granted access to the nuclear reactor of a Russian submarine?”

“One time only,” Superman said.

Robin sighed, “That means the other targeted sites are more top secret than a nuclear submarine.”

“Or,” Green Lantern said, “they want it to be our fault when we can’t disarm the bomb, the submarine explodes, and nuclear countermeasures in Russia and the U.S. start World War Three.”

Superboy looked horrified, and Batman growled at Green Lantern, “I didn’t want that eventuality mentioned in front of the boys.”

“Then, why did you bring them,” Green Lantern asked.

Batman sighed, “Bombs have small parts, and they have small fingers.”

“We’re five minutes out,” Wonder Woman called out.

Superman turned to the boys and said, “You two stick together, and try to stay out of the Russian’s way.  We don’t know how they will react to us bringing children onto a military base.”

The Justice League disembarked the plane and were met by a Russian Colonel.  The man spoke in quick Russian, and the League followed the officer.

Superboy had to jog to catch up with the quickly moving group.  He had been looking around the base instead of looking at their contact, and the rest of the group walked off without him.

Catching up to Robin, Superboy asked, “What’s going on?”

Robin nodded at the officer, “He said the submarine is this way.  The area has been cleared of non-essential personnel.”

Superboy stared, “Wait, you speak Russian?”

“Of course,” Robin said.

“Am I the only one here who doesn’t speak Russian,” Superboy asked.

Robin shrugged, “Looks like it.  Don’t worry, either I or Superman will translate anything you need to know.”

The Justice League was led through a warehouse to a dock.  A large, sleek black shape jutted out of the water, causing Superboy’s jaw to drop.  “That is so cool,” the boy whispered.

“They didn’t tell us we were working on the Red October here,” Green Lantern said sarcastically.

Robin and Superboy both asked, “What do you mean?”

Green Lantern shook his head, “Right.  You two are too young for that one.”

“It’s a ballistic missile submarine,” Batman said, “The Cold War’s answer to long life and happiness.”

“Ballistic…” Superboy started in a confused tone.

“It launches nuclear missiles from the sea,” Robin said shortly.

“Oh, right.  I knew that,” Superboy said.

Robin rolled his eyes as they were led onto the ship.

Superman hung back and whispered to the boys, “Keep up with the group.  We don’t want them getting any wrong ideas.”

Robin glanced over his shoulder and found two guards holding AK-47’s.  The teen nodded and said, “Good idea.  Let’s go, SB.”

The Justice League was led to the engine room of the submarine, and the Captain said in Russian, “There is the device.  Get it off my ship.”

The man left the room, but stopped just outside of the hatch to watch the proceedings.

“That’s a nuclear bomb,” Superboy asked nervously.

Superman replied, “That is a nuclear power reactor unit with a conventional bomb attached to the casing.”

Batman stared up at the device, mounted almost fifteen feet above the deck, before saying, “Robin, analyze that device for us.”

Robin looked over, hiding his shock at the request, “Why me?  You can analyze it better than I can.”

Batman turned to Robin and spoke softly, “We need to justify your presence here to the Russians.  Now, get up there.”

Robin released a breath as he stared up at the device.  It was more than twice Robin’s height off of the deck, and was roughly the size of a box of cereal.  “Superboy, give me a lift.”

“What?”

Robin rolled his eyes, “I’m going to climb on your back, and you are going to float up there so I can take a closer look.”

Robin climbed on the boy’s back as Green Lantern covered a broad smile.

“Didn’t you say I would never carry you,” Superboy asked jokingly.

Robin sighed, “One, I never said never.  Two, this is a completely different situation.  Now, float up there, don’t touch anything, and hold me steady.”

Superboy’s soles left the deck, and a second later Robin said, “Okay, stop here.  This is good.”

Robin looked at the bomb for two full minutes before saying, “Okay, take us down.”

Once on the deck again, Batman asked, “Well?”

Robin shook his head, “It’s not good.  First thing first, there is a timer at the top, reading just over ten minutes before detonation.  It’s not one bomb, it’s two.  The first is a brick of C4.  The second looks like a thermite charge.”

Batman shook his head, “I thought I smelled thermite.”

“What does that mean,” Wonder Woman asked.

“We need to get both devices off.  The thermite will eat through the casing, then the C4 will detonate the radioactive material.”  Batman turned to look at Robin, “Did you see any boobytraps or triggers?”

Robin nodded, “Several.  The bomb is built in two parts.  The C4 part is on top and the thermite is underneath.  The top section is on rollers, which I’m assuming will trigger the bomb if they move too far.  There are four wires connection the top and bottom, which I would guess would also detonate the bomb, if they are cut.  I’m sure there’s more I couldn’t see.  I saw a USB port on the C4 charge.  I think I can jack in and get a schematic.”

“Won’t that set it off,” Green Lantern asked.

Robin shook his head, “With Red Robin’s program, the device will never know it was accessed.”

Batman looked at Superman, who nodded.  Batman said, “Do it.  Carefully.”

Robin took a breath, “Superman, Superboy, I’ll need you both.  Here’s what we’re going to do.  Superboy, your job remains the same.  Hold me up there and keep me steady.  Superman, you are going to get above the bomb.  I’m going to have to push up to get the USB into the slot.  I need you to push down on the top of the bomb with the same force I use to push up.  The goal is to keep the bomb steady.”

Superman nodded, “We’ll go off of your commands.”

Robin pulled his PDA from his utility belt and climbed back onto Superboy’s shoulders.  “Okay, SB.  Up we go.”

The boys rose into the air again.  Superman rose with them, and inverted himself above the bomb.  Robin had Superboy stop a little short, so he was eye level with the USB port, to get the right angle for the cord.

Below him, Superboy started shaking.  Robin moved his arms away from the bomb and asked, “Superboy, what’s wrong?”

Superboy’s hands were rising to his face at the same time as Batman jumped, grabbed Superboy’s ankle, and dragged both boys back to the deck.  Superboy’s feet touched the deck at the same time as he released a massive sneeze, strong enough to throw Robin from his shoulders.  Wonder Woman caught the Bat youth and righted him before he could hit the deck.

Superboy wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket, looked up sheepishly, and mumbled, “Sorry.”

Superman, still floating above the bomb, smiled and said, “Bless you.”

Batman turned to his son and said, “Robin, can you reach the bomb if you stand on my shoulders?”

Robin glanced up at the bomb, then stared at Batman seriously, “That might be too much of a stretch.  Superboy can do this.”

“Okay,” Batman said as Robin climbed on Superboy’s back again.

“You’ve got it this time, SB,” Robin said, “I believe in you.”

The boys rose to bomb level again, and Robin asked, “Ready, Superman?”

Superman held a finger over the bomb and said, “On your word.”

“Robin, left hand,” Batman called out.

Robin held out his hand and felt a small cylinder slide into his palm.

“Liquid nitrogen,” Batman said, “Use it to freeze the rollers before you try to insert the cable.”

“Good plan,” Robin said.  “Superman?”

“Ready,” the Man of Steel said.

Robin sprayed the rollers and dropped the cylinder.  He didn’t hear it hit the deck, and assumed correctly that Batman had caught it.  “Cable in place.  Pushing up…now.”

Robin inserted the USB cable into the bomb.  With Superman pushing down, the device didn’t move.

“Releasing pressure…now.”

Both hands above and below the device came away at the same time.  Robin pushed a button on his PDA and held the device perfectly still, so the cable didn’t move the bomb.

Superboy was shaking again, this time with nerves.  Robin looked down and said, “Just a couple more seconds, SB.  You’re doing great.”

The PDA gave a soft beep, which caused Superboy and Green Lantern to gasp audibly.  Robin nodded, “Okay, scan complete.  Superman, I need you behind me now.  One finger on top of the bomb, one on the bottom.  Bracket it in place while I disconnect the cable.”

Superman moved behind the boys to where Robin had indicated.  Robin found the cylinder of liquid nitrogen slid into his palm again.  He was glad that Batman had remembered, because Robin hadn’t.

“Ready, Superman?”

“On your go, Robin.”

Robin sprayed the rollers again, then grabbed the cable by the plug.  “Hold it in place.  Disconnecting…now.”

The USB cable slipped free.  Robin slowly moved his hands away from the device.  Slowly, Superman moved both fingers away from the bomb as the room held its breath.  Nothing happened, and Superman wrapped his arms around both boys and pulled them back to the deck.

Wonder Woman smiled at the youths as Superman set them down, “Good job, boys.”

Superboy looked ready to pass out as Robin gripped his shoulder, “You did good, SB.”

“Thanks,” Superboy gasped.

“Analysis, Robin,” Batman said.

“How much time, Superman,” Robin asked.

Superman flew back up to the bomb and read the timer, “Eight minutes, thirty-seven seconds.”

Robin was staring at the screen of his PDA in disbelief, “No, no, no.  This is no good.  I can’t read this.”

“Is the data corrupted,” Batman asked.

“I’m good with tech specs if you want me to take a look,” Green Lantern said.

Robin handed the PDA to Batman, who almost gave a smile as he looked at the screen, “Oh.  I see.”

“See what,” Wonder Woman asked.

Batman said, “Robin is fluent in twelve languages.  Vietnamese is not one of them.  Give me a second here.”

“Why is there Vietnamese writing on diagrams for a Russian bomb,” Green Lantern asked.

Robin sighed, “Pure Earth is based in Vietnam.  This confirms our suspect is part of them.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t move the bomb, Robin,” Batman said.

“Boobytraps,” Robin asked.

“Yes, and not just against tampering.  It has a barometer and an accelerometer built in,” Batman reported.

Wonder Woman looked confused, “What will those do?”

Robin turned to look at the woman, “My guess is to keep the Russians from just scuttling the boat and abandoning it to the bottom of the ocean.  The barometer will measure pressure.  Accelerometer will measure angle.  Dive the boat, the bomb goes off.”

“There is also a cell receiver built in,” Batman said.

Superman’s eyes widened, “Wait, so even it we disarm all of the boobytraps, Pure Earth can still detonate the bomb with just a phone call?”

Batman nodded, and Green Lantern asked, “What’s our move?”

“Here,” Batman said, pointing at the screen, “These two wires.  We cut those, it will disconnect the thermite charge from the timer.  It won’t disarm the whole thing, but it will make it safe enough to move, if done carefully.”

“Let’s do it,” Robin said, reaching into his utility belt for a pair of pliers.

“We can’t,” Batman said.

“Why not,” Robin asked.

“It’s a double wire.”

“What does that mean,” Wonder Woman asked.

“It’s a wire within a wire,” Batman explained, “One wire is encased in another for redundancy.  Both wires need to be cut at the same time, but even the quickest snip will still leave a short gap in the time from when the outer wire is cut to when the inner wire is cut.  The cut needs to happen at close to the speed of light.”

Robin looked up and smirked, “At _close_ to the speed of light, you say?  Why not _at_ the speed of light?”

Batman eyed his son, then looked up and said, “This looks like a job for Superman.”

“And Superboy,” Robin said.

“Me,” Superboy asked in shock.

Superman placed his hands on his son’s shoulders from behind, “Us.”

“How,” Superboy asked.

Robin rolled his eyes, “You two are going to shoot lasers out of your eyes and cut the wires.”

The Supers looked over the diagram.  Superman nodded, but Superboy said, “I’ve never aimed at something so small before.”

Robin stepped forward, “Yes, you have.  Remember last month in training, when I had you do that pinpoint focus work?  We brought out those old door locks, and you were able to blow the cylinders out of them.”

Superboy sighed, “Yeah, but this is a lot smaller.”

Robin shook his head, “What was your last exercise of the night?”

“Um, writing my name with eye lasers.”

Robin nodded, “You wrote your name ten times on a piece of paper, and you were able to stay within the lines.  I know you’re nervous, but you can do this.”

Robin walked over to Batman, turned around, and leaned against his father to watch the next phase of the disarming process.  Superman pulled Superboy forward and said softly, “Let’s go take a look at what we need to do.”

“Okay, Dad,” Superboy whispered nervously.

Superman and son floated up to the bomb, and Superman positioned his boy on one side of the device.  “Okay, kiddo,” Superman said quietly, “See that thick wire?  That’s your target.”

Superboy nodded, but his voice was still shaky, “It’s bigger than I thought it would be, but that will still be the smallest thing I’ve aimed at.”

“I know, Pal, but it’s okay.  See that copyright symbol on the wire?  You just keep that in mind.  Aim there.”

Superboy took a nervous breath, “Okay, Dad.”

Superman moved to the other side of the bomb and found his own wire.  “Okay, Superboy, here’s how we’re going to do this.  I’ll give you a countdown of ‘3, 2, 1, Go.’  You start shooting on Go.  I’ll then count ‘1, 2, 3, Stop.’  You stop on Stop.  Easy, right?”

Superboy nodded, “Y-yeah.  Sure.”

Superman gave a small smile, “Take a breath, get yourself settled down, and focus.  I know you can do this.”

Superboy closed his eyes for half a minute.  When he opened them again, they were glowing red.  He stared for another ten seconds before nodding.

Superman matched the nod, “Okay.  Here we go.  Ready?  3, 2, 1, Go, 1, 2, 3, Stop!”

Two trails of smoke rose from the sides of the bomb, and a whiff of ozone filled the room, but there were no cataclysmic explosions.  Superboy had cringed away from the bomb until he realized nothing was happening.

“Did we do it,” Superboy asked.

“Sure did, Pal,” Superman said with a smile, “Good job.”

Batman’s voice startled the room as he said, “Green Lantern, you’re up.  Put the strongest forcefield your ring can make around that bomb and float it out to the bomb containment vessel on the dock.  Wonder Woman, clear a path for him.”

Superman floated down to the deck carrying an exhausted-looking Superboy.  He said, “Three minutes, fifteen seconds left, Lantern.”

“Thanks,” the green man said as he flew into position.

Robin walked to the hatch and told the Captain in perfect Russian, “We’re ready to move the bomb.  Please order your crew to hold in place and clear the corridors.”

The Captain nodded and made an announcement over the loudspeaker.

“Thank you, Robin,” Batman said, “Stand clear.”

Robin grabbed Superboy’s cape and gently pulled the boy to his side, out of the way.  “See, I told you you could do it.”

Superboy was surprised by the gentle smile on Robin’s face, “Yeah, you did.  Thanks for believing in me.  What happens now?”

Wonder Woman led Green Lantern and the explosive out of the engine room as the rest of the Justice League held its breath.

Once the pair left the engine bay, Robin said, “Once Green Lantern gets the bomb in the containment vessel, we’re pretty much done here.”

“Who is going to disarm the rest of the bomb,” Superboy asked.

Robin shrugged, “No one.”

Superboy’s eyes widened, “We’re just going to let it blow up?  What was the point of all this, then?”

“The point is,” Batman said, “We got it off the reactor.  The explosion will be safely contained, and no one will be hurt.”

“How,” Superboy asked curiously.

An announcement came over the loudspeaker, and Superman and Batman grabbed their sons, covered them with their bodies, and crouched down next to a bulkhead.  Ten seconds later, a loud explosion sounded throughout the ship.

“Oh, no,” Superboy called out in fear.

“It’s okay,” Superman soothed his son, “That was off of the ship.”

“That was loud,” Superboy said.

“We’re inside a giant metal tube,” Batman said, “It’s an excellent sound conductor.”

“What did the announcement say,” Superboy asked as the fathers and sons stood again.

Robin said, “It was a warning to brace for an explosion.”

The Justice League regrouped on the dock next to the smoking bomb containment vessel.  Green Lantern and Wonder Woman were just standing up, and both were covered with dirt and debris.

“What happened,” Batman asked, seeing the harried state of Wonder Woman and Green Lantern.

Green Lantern brushed himself off and said, “The timer started speeding up as soon as I got the bomb off the reactor.  We barely got it out here and in the containment vessel before it blew.  If Wonder Woman hadn’t gotten the lid on it as quick as she did, who knows what would have happened.”

Superman looked at the destroyed containment vessel and asked, “Speaking of the lid, where is it?”

Green Lantern hitched a thumb at the water, “It splashed down about a hundred yards offshore.  No one was injured.”

The Russian Colonel approached the Justice League and spoke in broken English, “Thank you.  Thank you, Justice League.  You saved my base.”

Superman shook the man’s hand, “You’re welcome.  You know how to contact us if you need help hunting down your intruders.”

“No,” the man said darkly, “They are ours.”

The Justice League was led back to Wonder Woman’s invisible jet, where they quickly boarded and took off, heading home.  Superman called in to the Watchtower to report their status.

“Red Robin, come in.”

A different voice than the expected one replied, “Sorry, Superman.  Shift change was an hour ago.  This is Black Canary.”

Superman shrugged, “That’s okay.  Status report update.  Call for a bomb on a Russian submarine has been completed.  The bomb was removed safely and detonated without injury.”

“Good,” Black Canary said, typing into a report.  “Assets involved?”

Superman smiled, “A1, A2, A3, A6, B30, and F3.”

Black Canary’s tone brightened, “B30 and F3?  Were they active participants?”

Superman smiled at the boys, “Active and incredibly helpful.  Are there any other calls, while we’re all together?”

Black Canary sighed, “Unfortunately, yes.  We have a similar call to the one you just finished from a Chinese nuclear power plant.  It just came in a couple minutes ago.”

“Another bomb,” Superman asked.

“Yes,” Black Canary said, “They didn’t give us much information, though.”

Superman shook his head, “The fact that China would ask for our help at all says this is a serious threat.  Can you get us more information?”

“I’ll try,” Black Canary said, “Hold the line.”

The line was quiet for half a minute before Black Canary came back on the line, “Uh, I need a bit of help here.  Do we have anyone who speaks Chinese in the League?”

All eyes in the jet turned to Robin, who sighed and said, “Patch the call through.”

“Robin,” Black Canary asked.

“Time is of the essence, Black Canary.”

“Patching him through.”

The next voice on the line spoke in very quick Mandarin.  Robin had to tell the man to slow down several times before he relayed information to the League.

“The bomb is planted on the cooling system controls for their reactor.  From his description, it sounds like the same type of device we just disarmed.”  Robin asked the man a question, then said, “Twelve minutes, twenty-one seconds left on the timer.”

Batman asked, “Can we make it to China in less than that, Wonder Woman?”

The Amazonian shook her head, “At top speed, we’re still almost four hours out.”

Batman released a breath, “Superman?”

He nodded, “Superboy and I can get there in less than five minutes.”

Batman turned, “Green Lantern?”

“Less than ten minutes,” the man said.

Batman nodded, “Okay you three, go.  Same plan we just executed.  Get it done.”

Superman, Superboy, and Green Lantern left the plane behind and streaked off to the east.  Robin informed the Chinese official that help was on the way and disconnected the line.

Robin took a seat next to Batman and released a sigh, “Now what, Father?”

Batman shook his head, “Nothing more we can do right now.  Just rest, we’ve got a few hours.”

“I’m very impressed with how you handle yourself, Robin,” Wonder Woman said.

Robin shrugged, “Just doing our job.”

“You okay son?”

“All in all, I think I’d rather be busting a chop shop.”

Batman gave the barest hint of a grin, “Maybe tomorrow night.”

Robin leaned into Batman’s side, “If we get home before tomorrow night.”

Batman looked down at Robin, and even with the masks in place, he could tell that the teen’s eyes were closed.  “What did you two do today, son,” Batman asked softly.

“SB and I explored the house again,” Robin murmured.

Batman smiled at the nickname, “Again?  Are you two making a map?”

Robin yawned, “We never got to the third floor before, so we went up there today.  We found Hood’s old hiding spot.  It’s probably for the best if Agent A never finds it.”

Batman thought for a second, “Knowing how Hood was back then, you’re probably right.  Get some rest, son.”

Robin snuggled into Batman’s side as Batman covered the boy in his cape.  “Okay, Dad,” Robin mumbled, already asleep.

_An Hour Later…_

Robin jerked awake under Batman’s arm as the radio crackled in both his and Batman’s ears.

“I did it!  I found her!”

Batman shook his head, “Calm down, Red Robin.  What did you do?  Who did you find?”

Robin grumbled as he sat up.  He was contemplating just taking his earpiece out and going back to sleep, but Red Robin only ever got this excited when the information was important.

The older Robin spoke again, “I finally got to the important information on Pure Earth’s server.  I have the name of their founder.  I found the person who it pulling the strings.”

Robin perked up at the news.  Batman said, “Good.  Who are we looking for?”

“Her name is Tinh Khiet Phuong.  She became an outspoken anti-Meta activist after the war.  It looks like she founded Pure Earth to advance her cause.  She lost her family in the destruction of South East Asia.”

Batman sighed, “Brainiac was ruthless over there.  He killed millions in that area when they fought back.  She lost her family?”

Red Robin took a deep breath, “Both parents, two younger brothers, and a younger sister.  Batman, Phuong is only sixteen years old.”

“Why wasn’t she with her family,” Robin asked, surprising Red Robin with his question.

“Because, like you, she is apparently good with languages.  She got a job as an interpreter at the Chinese Consulate in Hanoi.  She was in the north when the south was attacked.”

Batman thought for a second, “Lots of people lost loved ones in the war.  What happened to change her from mourning to blaming Metas?

Red Robin sighed, “I found a copy of her manifesto on the server.  Apparently, there were multiple calls for assistance that went unanswered from South East Asia.”

Batman shook his head, “Communications were down planet-wide for most of the war.  What did she expect?”

Red Robin continued, “Towards the end of the war, her family was killed.  She found out the day after it happened.  The day after she found out, the war ended and Brainiac left.  The day after the war ended, the first emergency response units arrived in the area.  Apparently, there were a lot of people in the area that were bitter that help didn’t arrive sooner.  A month or so after the war, it was leaked that we were hiding the Metas during the war.  Phuong started asking questions, most specifically why did the U.N. and the Justice League go out of their way to protect the Metas and ignore not just South East Asia, but most of the Third World.”

Robin thought for a second, “She does have a bit of a point.”

“Robin,” Batman asked questioningly.

“I didn’t say I agree with her,” Robin said, “I’m just saying we could have done more for the areas that have a smaller GDP than your annual income.”

Batman said, “I agree.  However, none of those other areas are harboring an organization that is currently threatening the world with nuclear devastation.  Red Robin, where is she?”

Red Robin spoke hesitantly, “Well, there is a bit of a problem with that.”

“You couldn’t find her,” Robin asked.

“No, no I found her,” Red Robin said, “She’s being held north of Sing Buri.”

Robin’s eyes widened under his mask, “Where is that?”

“Laos,” Batman said.

“Wait,” Robin said, “What do you mean, she’s being held?”

The trio in the plane could hear Red Robin’s cringe, “Um, a video was released on the internet.  Phuong is being held hostage by an opium ring.”

“Why,” Batman asked.  “Is this a ransom demand, or is this another ploy of hers, to gain attention for her cause?”

Red Robin released a breath, “I’m leaning towards both.”

Robin cocked his head, “Wait, the drug ring issued a ransom demand?  Who did they issue the demand to?”

“The Chinese,” Red Robin said, “Phuong works in their Consulate in Vietnam.  The ring is stating that she knows state secrets, and if the Chinese want them to stay secret, they will pay the ransom by noon tomorrow.”

Batman looked thoughtful for half a minute, “To be honest, there have been too many instances of unnatural intervention by Chinese interests.  First, the satellite over the Midwest.  Then, the Chinese U.N. delegation tries stonewalling the Justice League at the meeting.  I’m starting to believe she might actually know something.”

Robin looked up at Batman, “You thinking it might be worth a trip to Laos?”

“I’m thinking we can put an end to this whole thing tonight, if we play our cards right,” Batman said.

Red Robin asked, “Do you want us to join you?  I can grab Nightwing and Red Robin and head out within the next few minutes.”

Batman thought for a minute, “How long would it take you to get to Laos?”

Red Robin calculated distances in his head, “Probably six or seven hours in the Bat Plane.”

Batman turned to Wonder Woman, “How long to rendezvous with Superman?”

“An hour and a half,” Wonder Woman said.

Batman nodded, “And another half hour to Laos and the opium ring.  Don’t waste the fuel, Red Robin.  If everything goes well, this will all be done hours before you can get there.”

“Understood, Batman,” Red Robin said with a sigh, “We’re missing all the fun again, I guess.”

Robin snorted, “Fun?  Disarming potentially nuclear situations is not exactly fun in my book.”

Batman could sense Red Robin’s smile, “No, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy beating up a drug ring.”

Robin gave a small smile, “It’s what I do best.”

_An Hour and a Half Later…_

Batman, Wonder Woman, and Robin appeared out of nowhere, surprising Superboy as the trio approached their other half.

Batman looked around before asking Superman, “Well?”

Superman stared blankly at Batman, “We decided to just let the bomb go off.  Radioactive waste is now coating about twelve square miles around the reactor.  You all should be dead within a couple minutes.”  Superman shook his head and rolled his eyes, “What kind of stupid question is that, Batman?  Of course, we took care of the situation.”

Even with only half a face showing, Batman’s stern look came across loud and clear, “I get enough sarcasm from my kids, Superman.  I don’t need your shit right now.  Are we done here?”

Superman sighed, “Yes, we’re done here.”

Batman nodded, “Good, because we have one last situation to take care of tonight.  I’ll brief you on the plane.  Let’s go.”

Batman turned and led the League back to Wonder Woman’s plane.  Superboy walked next to Robin and spoke softly, “You should have seen it, Rob.  We took care of this one even faster than we did the last one.”

Robin nodded, “Good job.  See what you can do when you put your mind to it?”

Superboy smiled, “It was weird.  I wasn’t nervous this time.”

“That’s because you’d already done it once, and you knew you could do it again,” Robin replied.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the Boy of Steel said.

Robin nudged Superboy with an elbow lightly, “Now that you know you are capable of more than you thought you were, will you please have a little more confidence in yourself and your abilities during training?  You just helped the Justice League disarm two bombs that could have started world wars and devastated entire ecosystems if they had been allowed to go off.  Compared to that, practicing a self-defense sequence or completing first aid training is nothing.”

Superboy stopped and cocked his head at Robin, “Did I really do that?”

“You did,” Robin said, patting Superboy on the back.  “Come on, we’ve got a new situation to tackle.”

“What is it,” Superboy asked.

The Super Sons entered the invisible jet, and Robin said, “We’ve got a hostage situation.  One that could end up solving our whole case and ending the threat of Pure Earth.”

 

**A/N:  Coming up on the end of this one now.  I’m thinking another one or two chapters, depending on how the rest of this goes.  Sorry I’m just getting this posted now.  My internet has been down for the last week, and I finally fixed it this morning.**

**So, now we know who is behind Pure Earth.  Stay tuned to learn about her motivations.  By the way, I got the character name from Google Translate, so I don’t know if that is even acceptable to use as a name.  Per Google Translate, Tinh Khiet translates as Pure, hence Pure Earth.  If I’m wrong, I apologize.  You can blame Google if I got it wrong.**

**By the way, in case it wasn’t clear, and for new readers, the war I’ve been referencing is drawn from my story Invasion.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	15. 15

Hero Hunt

Chapter 15

_The following takes place immediately after Chapter 14._

 

Batman closed the hatch of Wonder Woman’s invisible jet after the last of their group had boarded.  The engines powered up, but Batman said, “Hold on, Wonder Woman.  We need to plan our next move before we head out.”

Superman nodded, “Right.  You were saying something about a hostage situation?  Are we really the closest unit?”

“We are,” Batman said, “And, even if we weren’t, we still need to be the ones to handle this situation.”

“Tell us what Red Robin found, Batman,” Wonder Woman said, “I could only hear your half of the conversation.”

_Red Robin only called in on our comms?  I didn’t notice.  I thought he called on League comms._   “Why didn’t you say anything when we were talking?  I could have put his call on something you could have heard.”

Superboy opened his mouth to ask a question, but Robin put a hand on his arm to head him off.  Superboy looked over at Robin, who shook his head and motioned to Batman, indicating to the boy to let the Bat talk.

Batman took a breath and began his briefing, “Red Robin called while you three were handling the bomb at the plant.  A ransom demand was issued to the Chinese Foreign Ministry to buy back Tinh Khiet Phuong, an interpreter in their Hanoi Consulate.  She is being held by an opium smuggling ring in Laos, and they are stating Phuong knows state secrets.”

Batman looked around the cockpit and said seriously, “According to Red Robin’s research, Tinh Khiet Phuong is the founder and driving force behind Pure Earth.”

There were shocked gasps and murmurs all around the plane.  Green Lantern asked, “What does this mean?”

“It means that our victim is also our suspect,” Robin said.

Superman rolled his eyes, “It’s never easy, is it?  What’s the situation?”

“Batman!  Batman!”

Batman held up a finger as he addressed the call in his ear, “Switch to League comms, Red Robin, so we all can hear you.”

“Who is there, so I can patch in,” Red Robin asked.

“Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern,” Batman said.  Robin nudged his father, who then grumbled, “Robin and Superboy.”

Red Robin muted his microphone so he could laugh at the tone without everyone hearing.  He then activated the appropriate radios and said, “I have more news.”

Superman interrupted, “Batman was in the process of briefing us.  Why don’t you take over and add the new information in at the end?”

“How far did you get, Batman,” Red Robin asked.

“I told them about Phuong’s kidnapping, and that she is the head of Pure Earth.”

Red Robin took a deep breath, “Okay, long story short, then.  Tinh Khiet Phuong is originally from south Vietnam.  She has a penchant for languages, and was hired as an interpreter at the Chinese Consulate in Hanoi, in the north.  While she’s working, her family was killed when Brainiac devastates the south.  She finds out a day before the end of the war.  First responders don’t reach the area until after the war is over, causing many in the area to resent the world powers, for not sending aid in a timely manner.  Phuong, through her connections at the Consulate, learned that we hid Metas while abandoning the Third World.  Phuong then started a movement, which now is Pure Earth.”

Superman looked confused at the explanation, “How does that turn into a kidnapping by a drug ring?”

“Who knows,” Batman said, “It could all just be a coincidence by a group looking for some money.”

“Or, it could be part of her plan,” Robin said.

“It definitely isn’t for money,” Red Robin said, “or, if it is, they won’t be getting any.”

“What do you mean,” Batman asked.

“I made an inquiry with the Chinese Consulate in Hanoi,” Red Robin said.  “I was told that they are aware of the ransom demand.”

“That’s it,” Superman asked.

“In their view, Tinh Khiet Phuong is a Vietnamese private citizen.  She was an employee of the Consulate, but had no clearance to access state secrets.”

Batman’s eyes widened under his cowl, “Wait, what do you mean, was?”

Red Robin sighed, “The person I spoke to said that Phuong’s employment was terminated.  He didn’t say when.  Since they are claiming no ongoing connection with Phuong, their claim is that her safety is not their responsibility.  I get the feeling that, even if she was still under their employ, they would have found a way to not be bothered by the situation.  In other words, they will not consider paying the ransom.”

“So, they’re not going to do anything,” Superboy asked in shock.

“They’re cutting ties,” Robin mused.  “This gives them perfect deniability, and a way to get rid of their involvement with Pure Earth.”

Wonder Woman gasped, “This is our fault.”

“How,” Batman asked.

Wonder Woman shook her head, “We tipped our hand at the U.N.  We confronted the Chinese delegation with proof that we were tracking down and closing in on Pure Earth.  It was only a matter of time before we found proof of organized involvement, with the satellites and materiel.  Unfortunately, we’ve probably given them enough time to bury all the relevant evidence.”

Green Lantern turned to Wonder Woman, “Do you think the Chinese ordered the kidnapping?  Is Phuong the last of the evidence that they are trying to bury?”

“We’re not going to let them,” Batman growled.  “Even if we can’t catch the Chinese red-handed, or prove whatever they’re plotting, we can extract Phuong.  She can stand trial for what she’s done.”

Superman nodded slowly, “I thought you would say that.”

“What’s the plan,” Wonder Woman asked.

Batman took a breath, “Red Robin, we need a location and a map of the camp of the smuggling ring.  Do we have any information on the group, to know size and potential tactics?”

“It’s not like I can Google ‘Opium Smuggling Rings’ and get a list of potential suspects,” Red Robin said, “I don’t think they publish their yearbook, or anything else for that matter, on the internet.  I’ll get what I can for you.”

Batman rolled his eyes again, “We have the ransom demand, Red Robin.  If they want to get paid, they need to put how to find them in there.”

Red Robin was glad they weren’t speaking over a video link, so the League couldn’t see how much he was blushing for forgetting such an obvious fact.  “Oh, right.  I’ll transfer the coordinates to Wonder Woman’s jet.  Oh, I also found a picture of Tinh Khiet Phuong.  I’ll send that, too.”

“Good, Red Robin,” Batman said.

The console beeped, and Wonder Woman said, “The coordinates have been set into the computer.  Here, I’ll display the picture.”

Tinh Khiet Phuong’s picture popped up on the screen and caused everyone in the plane, except for Batman and Robin, to gasp in shock.  The last known picture of Tinh Khiet Phuong, which Red Robin had found and sent, was a school picture taken the year before she took the job at the Chinese Consulate.

“This can’t be Phuong,” Superman said.

“Why not,” Batman asked.

“She’s pretty,” Superboy said.

Robin shrugged, “So?  Beauty doesn’t equal virtue.”

Green Lantern shook his head, “She’s just a school girl.”

Red Robin’s voice came over the line again, “Did I forget to mention that Phuong is sixteen years old?”

“Yes, you did,” Batman said dryly.

“I thought so,” Red Robin said, “This is the last known picture of Phuong.  She is a little over five feet tall, maybe ninety pounds, black hair, brown eyes.  This picture was taken during her last year of school in the south, before she moved north to take a job at the Chinese Consulate.  She is fourteen in this picture, so expect natural age progression.”

“How can she be the founder of Pure Earth,” Wonder Woman asked.

Batman held his sigh inside, but felt it none the less, “Put the right amount of hate into the wrong ears, and even the most virtuous can turn.  Put those thoughts on the Dark Web and you will find any number of people willing to join a cause.  Remember, we still know very little about her and Pure Earth.  Questioning her will tell us a lot.”

Robin glanced to his side and saw that Superboy looked distinctly unhappy about the situation.  This wasn’t the right time to point it out or pull Superboy aside, but Robin kept the look in the back of his mind for later discussion.

“How much time do we have left before the deadline for the ransom demand,” Green Lantern asked.

“Um, the demand gave a deadline of ‘noon tomorrow’,” Red Robin said, “Given the local time when the demand was received, we’ve got about ten and a half hours left.”

Robin cocked his head, “Laos local time is what right now?”

“About one-thirty in the morning.”

“How are you coming with that camp image,” Batman asked.

“I’ve found a satellite image that should be the right area.  It’s a couple weeks old.  Unfortunately, it’s the best I can do.  Satellite coverage in the area is sparse at best.”

Batman nodded, “Send the image.”

Tinh Khiet’s image was replaced by a satellite image showing mostly jungle.

“Hmm.  Very ‘Rambo’,” Green Lantern observed.

“Zoom in on the camp,” Batman ordered.

The image changed to show a small clearing in the jungle, with several huts and small buildings spread around.  Batman stared at the image for close to a minute before saying, “Robin.”

Robin looked over at Batman with a disbelieving look on his face, “There are no Russians to impress now, Batman.  Why would you want me to analyze this?”

Batman did sigh this time, “Because you keep asking me for a larger role in League missions.  Here’s your chance to show us you deserve that larger role.  Anyway, you are good at breaking down these types of situations.”

Robin took and released a deep breath before asking, “Red Robin, where is the best landing zone for the jet?”

The image zoomed out, then in again on a small, empty clearing.  “Here,” he said, “Three clicks southwest of the camp.”

Robin shook his head slightly, “Back on the camp again.”  The image changed, and Robin shook his head again, “LZ is no good.  What else do you have?”

“That’s it, Robin.  That is the closest area large enough for the jet, within a reasonable distance of the camp.  The only other area large enough is ten kilometers to the northeast.”

Robin sighed roughly, “That’s too far.  I can see why these guys chose this area now.”

Wonder Woman asked, “Why is the landing zone unacceptable?”

Robin pointed to three buildings in the southwest corner of the camp, “If we land where Red Robin indicated, the most direct route to the camp will bring us past these three buildings.  Even Superboy should be able to tell that these are the largest and best built structures in the whole clearing.  That means, usually, that they will also have the best security and the most people.  I’m assuming that we want to go in quick and quiet, extract Phuong, and get the hell out of there before the drug smugglers know we’ve been there.  To do that, we need to avoid security patrols and highly populated areas.  Our direct route won’t allow for that.”

“I think you watch too many movies, Robin,” Green Lantern said.

Batman shook his head, “No, he doesn’t watch enough of them.  Unfortunately, he’s speaking from experience, not imagination.  Why do you think I asked for his assessment?”

Superman considered what the teen said, “Okay, if you were holding Phuong, where would you keep her?”

“I wouldn’t take hostages,” Robin said.

Superman rolled his eyes, “I know _you_ wouldn’t.  That’s not what I asked.”

Robin continued, like he hadn’t heard Superman, “I would dispose of Phuong soon after making the demand, and taking enough proof of life to ensure the demands are met, then escape and evade once the demands are met.”

The adults stared worriedly at Robin for half a minute before Batman asked, “Red Robin, what proof of life was given with the ransom demand?”

The League could hear a flurry of keystrokes in the background, until Red Robin gasped.  “None, Batman.”

“What do you mean, none,” Batman asked in a surprised tone.

Red Robin was at a loss for explanation, “Unless the Chinese didn’t forward it to us, all they got was a video stating they had Phuong and would kill her unless their demands were met.”

Superman rolled his eyes, “Have you watched the video?”

“Of course.”

“Is Phuong in the video,” Green Lantern asked.

“There’s no way of knowing that.”

“Explain,” Batman demanded.

The image on the screen was replaced with the ransom demand video.  It showed two men holding rifles, standing next to a person bound to a chair.  The sitting person, who the drug smugglers were insisting was Phuong, had a bag over their head for the entire video, making a positive identification impossible.

The video ended, and Green Lantern asked, “Why are we even taking this seriously?  That could be anyone under that hood.”

“Including Phuong,” Wonder Woman said, “That’s why we’re taking it seriously.”

“This is all starting to seem a bit more ominous,” Superman said.

“What do you mean, Dad,” Superboy asked.

Superman thought for a second, “It’s almost as if this is tailor-made for us.  All the right boxes were checked to ensure we would come to the rescue.”

“Or not,” Batman said.

“What,” Green Lantern asked.

“Superman is right.  There is more going on here than we know.”

Robin cocked his head, “Do you think our anti-Meta mastermind masterminded her own abduction?”

“We can’t rule it out,” Batman said.

“To what end,” Wonder Woman asked.

Batman shook his head, “I don’t know.  I don’t have the mind of an evil genius.  Robin, continue your analysis of the compound.”

Robin hesitated for a second, staring at Batman, “Are you saying that my mind is evil enough to comprehend the situation?”

“Those were two separate thoughts, Robin,” Batman said patiently, “They just happened to run together.  I wasn’t suggesting anything.”

Robin shook his head, still uncomfortable with the last thought that ran through his head.  He turned back to the image of the camp and said, “Well, if I _was_ an evil genius, I would hold my hostage in either one of the buildings in the center of the compound, or in one of the older huts along the northern perimeter of the clearing.  That’s assuming, of course, that I didn’t tie her to the railroad tracks.”

Batman glared at his son for the snide comment, but Superboy unwittingly broke the tension in the plane.  “I don’t see any railroad tracks in this picture.  Did I miss them in the wide shot?”

Robin shook his head, “It’s an expression, Superboy.”

Superman asked, “Why those buildings?”

“The center buildings should be self-explanatory.  If she’s held in the center of the compound, then it doesn’t matter where we enter from, we have to go the same distance to reach the target.  Those smaller buildings to the north look like they back up to the jungle.  The trees look pretty tight and impassable there, making it harder to gain entry.”

Green Lantern nodded, “It could also mean less security in that area of the camp.”

“It could,” Batman said, “but we should go under the assumption of heavy guard.  Remember, these are opium smugglers, operating just outside of the Golden Triangle.  We need to expect heavy weaponry and guerilla tactics.”

Superman turned to Wonder Woman and said, “Let’s get into the air and on our way to the target.  We can work out strategy on the way.”

The plane lifted off and Wonder Woman set the autopilot to follow the coordinates Red Robin had forwarded.  She turned around in her seat again, “Okay, how should we go in?”

Batman took over the briefing, “For now, we follow the most direct route.  Superman, Wonder Woman, you two will assault these three large buildings at the southwest.  From there, you move north, following the western edge of the camp.  Green Lantern, you and I will move towards the center of the compound, aiming for the group of buildings in the center.  Robin, you and Superboy will work your way around to the east, and clear the huts to the east of the compound.  We’ll coordinate timing once we’re on the ground and approaching the compound.”

“Wait a minute,” Robin said, looking up at Batman, “We’re infiltrating a drug smuggling ring in the middle of the jungle, in the middle of the night, and you want to separate Superman and Superboy?”

Superman looked back and forth between Bat-Father and Bat-Son before saying, “We are infiltrating in the middle of the night in order to reduce the number of guards we will possibly encounter.  We need to move quickly and quietly, and as much as I hate to admit it, you are better at keeping Superboy quiet than I am.”

Batman turned and sent a serious look to Robin, “What did you promise the two of us before we left the Cave?  You said you wouldn’t let Superboy out of your sight.”

“That was when we were going to be breaking up a Gotham City chop shop, not a hostage-taking, drug smuggling ring.  Don’t you think the target changes things a bit?”

“No,” Batman said flatly.  He turned back to the picture of the compound and said, “We come in from the southwest, like we planned.  Be on the lookout for traps.  Wonder Woman, how far are we from the landing zone?”

“Six minutes, Batman,” the woman replied.

“Any questions,” the Dark Knight asked.

The League remained quiet.  They were all mostly looking at Superboy, wondering if he would bring up the nerves that were evident on his face.

It was Robin who broke the silence, “I don’t like this, Batman.”

“Is that a question?”

Robin shook his head, “Okay, here’s a question.  Can you zoom out to show the area surrounding the compound?”

Batman did, then asked, “What are you getting at?”

“Notice anything missing?”

Batman stared at the image for a minute before asking, “What do you think is missing?”

Robin drew a circle in the air over the image, “How did they get to this location?  Where are the roads?  You can’t possibly expect me to believe they carried in all the pieces of these huts on their backs.  The only access routes I can see from this image are footpaths.”

“He’s right,” Green Lantern said, just noticing the lack of access.  “How much drug smuggling can they actually be doing when they don’t even have a path large enough for a car to pass through?”

“That ominous feeling is coming back, Batman,” Superman said.

Batman released a frustrated grunt, “We’ll find out what kind of trap we’re walking into in four minutes.  Until then, get ready.”

The jet touched down in a smaller than expected clearing, and the Justice League disembarked and headed north.  The jungle was thicker than it looked in the satellite image, and progress was slow at best.  The journey, which should have only taken ten minutes, with the League going slowly to remain quiet, took nearly half an hour.

“I wish I’d brought a sword,” Robin grumbled.

Batman hid his shrug, “For once, I agree.  It could have come in handy getting through this undergrowth.  Everyone, radios set to channel one.  Spread out, the compound is close.”

Robin nudged Superboy, and the youths headed east.  Superman whispered to Batman as the kids disappeared into the jungle, “We’re doing the right thing, right?”

“It’s too late to ask that now,” Batman replied as he headed off with Green Lantern.

Superman sighed and turned to Wonder Woman, “Let’s get this over with.”

Approaching the compound from the east, Robin and Superboy moved slowly through the underbrush.  Every crackle of a leaf underfoot, every snapped twig, sounded infinitely louder to the nervous youths, and slowed their progress to a level that Robin found unsatisfactory.

After a snapped twig that sounded like a falling tree to the boys, yet couldn’t actually be heard more than five feet away, Superboy tapped Robin on the shoulder.  Pointing in the general direction of the camp, Superboy whispered, “What’s that?”

Robin froze and scanned in the direction Superboy was pointing, “What’s what?  I don’t see anything except trees.”

“Yeah, me either,” Superboy said, “But isn’t it kinda bright over there for the middle of the night?”

Robin couldn’t argue with that.  He had been noticing the increased brightness over the last several minutes.  “We must be closer to the camp than I thought.  They must have security lights set up.”

“Do you think they know we’re coming?”

_I’ve been asking myself that since we got off of the plane,_ Robin thought.  “I’m sure they expect someone to be coming.  They won’t expect us, but they might expect the League.”

Batman came over the comms quietly, “We’re in position.”

Wonder Woman replied, “In position.”

Robin shook his head, “Almost there.”

“Hurry up, boys,” Superman said, “We need to hit the compound simultaneously.”

“Growth is a lot heavier over here than it was over in your area,” Robin said, “It’s going to take us a little longer to get in position if you want us to move without getting caught.”

“Do you see lookouts,” Batman asked.

“I see trees and security lights.”

“It is quite a bit more lit up that I thought it would be,” Green Lantern said.

“Can’t be helped,” Batman said, “They must be on guard for rescue attempts, since they made the ransom demand.”

Robin and Superboy broke through a layer of foliage to find themselves on the edge of the compound.  Both boys instantly dropped to the ground and into cover.

“In position,” Robin said, “You’re not going to like what we’re seeing, though.”

“What are you seeing,” Batman and Superman asked at the same time.

“In simple terms, it’s a trap.”

“More, Robin,” Batman demanded.

Superboy was shaking next to Robin.  Robin gripped Superboy’s shoulder, to calm the youth, before saying, “Those aren’t static security floodlights, they’re search lights.  These smugglers are using them to search the tree line.  I don’t think they’re smugglers anymore, either.  I’ve got a small army over here, waiting for something to happen.”

“How small of an army,” Green Lantern asked.

Robin and Superboy did a quick headcount and compared numbers.  They couldn’t get their tallies to match, so Robin reported, “Between fifty and fifty-five.  They’re all armed, and facing southwest.”

Superman shook his head, “The compound is nearly deserted over here.  A token force, at best.  Maybe a handful of sentries.”

Batman released a breath through his nose, “They know the forest is lighter in this direction.  They want us to come in from this way and get overconfident that this will be easy.”

Wonder Woman nodded, “Then, when we get a certain distance into the camp, or trip some yet unknown trap, the rest of the smugglers attack.”

The hand placed on Superboy’s shoulder to calm the youth was now gripping the shoulder with bruising force.  Robin’s other hand was pressing his monocular to his eye, and he wasn’t liking what he was seeing.

“They’re not smugglers.  This is a set-up.  The kidnapping is a hoax.”

“How can you know that,” Batman asked with trepidation in his voice.

“I’m trying to get a closer look at their weapons,” Robin said, “Half of them have what you would expect: AK’s, SKS’s, stuff like that.  The other half,” Robin gasped as he finally identified the strange, silvery weapons, “They have the stolen United Nations dart guns.”

“What the hell,” Batman asked to no one in particular.

“Like I said,” Robin repeated, “They’re not smugglers, they’re Pure Earth.”

The line was silent for half a minute before Green Lantern asked, “What do we do?  Our original plan didn’t account for something like that.”

“This explains why the ransom demand was sent to the Chinese, and why it was shot down so fast,” Wonder Woman pointed out, “Their allies will know of their plans, and will act accordingly.”

“Assuming Pure Earth isn’t just playing China to get what they want,” Superman pointed out.

“We don’t have time to come up with a new plan,” Batman said, “So we go with the existing one.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Superboy said before slapping a hand over his own mouth.

Batman chose to ignore the outburst, “Same plan, different timing.  Phuong wants us to think this is a kidnapping, so we play it as a rescue.”

Robin rolled his eyes, “Is this going to be one of those ‘they don’t know that we know they know’ things?”

Batman internally shrugged, “Yes.  We stick with the original plan.  Superman and Wonder Woman, move up the west flank.  Use all the speed you have.  We need to clear your side before whatever trap they have set is sprung.  Lantern and I will move to the middle of the compound for our sweep and clear.  Robin, Superboy, you _stay_ _put_ until we trip the trap.  Once their reserve force starts in our direction, you start your sweep behind them.  Try to locate Phuong.  If the force is covering the northeast buildings, it’s a good bet that she is there, pretending to be a hostage.  If you can get her, try to extract her to the jet, if possible.”

Robin’s eyes widened, “Okay, but be careful.”

“That’s my line,” Superman said.

“Thank you for your concern, Robin,” Wonder Woman said, “but worry about your and Superboy’s assignment.  We’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure,” Robin said, surprising the League, “I’m the only one here with first-hand knowledge of the effectiveness of their paralytic agent.  Within a second of being hit, I started getting lightheaded and dizzy.  Batman, how long was it from the time I reported being hit to when I became unresponsive over the radio?”

Batman shook his head as he thought back, “Maybe fifteen, twenty seconds.”

“Pulling the darts out didn’t work to limit injection, either,” Robin remembered, “I pulled the one that hit me out of my shoulder within five seconds of being hit, and I still got the full dose of paralytic.  They are expecting the Justice League.  There is no reason to believe they would use a weaker serum to take you down.”

“The paralytic won’t affect me or Superboy,” Superman reminded the Boy Wonder.

“Which is why they had Kryptonite when they attacked the kids on the training hike,” Batman reminded Superman, “Do you really want to bet your life on them not having more?”

Superman sighed, “Then, what do we do?”

“We do what I said,” Batman replied, “Sweep and clear as fast as possible, and watch out for incoming projectiles.”

Robin added, “Superman, Superboy, do whatever it is you do to turn your hearing up.  Those darts are fired through compressed gas.  They are nearly silent in flight.  If they’re also firing rifles at you, the darts are going to be hard to detect.”

“That’s why we’re moving fast, Robin,” Batman said.  “Prepare yourselves, and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.  We’re moving now.”

Robin kept watch on the mob of Pure Earth enforcers.  Only twenty seconds after Batman announced that the Justice League was beginning their sweep, the guards started moving.  After ten more seconds, the entire mob started heading towards the League’s direction.

“What did you do,” Robin asked, “Pure Earth’s guards are heading in your direction.”

“What,” Batman asked, shocked at the news, “Already?”

Robin sighed, “They must have better security here than we thought.  You must have tripped a motion detector or were spotted on video surveillance.  Either way, they’re coming your way.  We’re going to start our search in a second.”

Next to Robin, Superboy gasped.  Robin turned to the boy and asked, “What is it?”

Superboy pointed to a nearby building.  While Robin had been talking to Batman, the door had opened and let out another dozen guards.  Robin’s eyes widened under his mask as a second, and a third, building disgorged more guards.

“Batman, you’ve got trouble.”

“We know,” Batman said, “You already told us about the guards.”

“Yeah, well, now there’s more of them.”

“What do you mean,” Superman asked.

Robin sighed, “After the first group of guards started moving, three more groups of guards started in your direction.”

“What do you mean, three more groups,” Green Lantern asked, “Where did they come from?”

“They were inside of the buildings,” Robin said.  “We had no way of knowing they were there from our position.”

“How many,” Batman growled.

“Another two dozen, maybe more.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Superman said.

“Should we pull back and rethink this,” Wonder Woman asked.

Batman shook his head as he spotted the first wave of attackers coming his way, “Too late for that now.  I’ve spotted armed men heading our way.  Robin, you and Superboy complete your mission as soon as you’re clear, then go back to the jet as fast as possible.”

_I don’t like this any more than you do, Father,_ Robin thought.  “Understood, Father.”

The radio clicked in Robin’s ear, and the youth shook his head.  Robin could feel the fear radiating off of Superboy, who had inched closer to Robin during the conversation.

Robin’s arm slid across Superboy’s shoulders comfortingly, “I don’t like this any more than you do, Superboy.”

Superboy’s head dropped, “There’s so many of them.  I know it’s the Justice League, but how can they handle all those guards?”

“They know what they’re doing,” Robin said, “Get ready, we’re going to move in a second.”

Superman and Wonder Woman had finished clearing their fourth building when the first shots rang out.  “Taking fire,” was all Batman said over the radio, in a too-calm voice.

Superman turned to Wonder Woman and said, “I hope the boys are following orders.  That kind of announcement is the type of thing that will bring any of the Robins running.”

Wonder Woman nodded, “Yes, it will.  Let’s finish our assignment before the guards get to this end of the camp, then join Batman and Green Lantern.”

The duo turned to the last building in line in time to dive out of sight.  Guards were pouring out of the door of the building like they were being sprayed out of a hose.  Jumping to the roof of the building, Superman asked, “How many of these buildings are full of guards.  This is getting out of control.”

“Get in close,” Wonder Woman said, “If they can’t hit us without risking hitting their comrades, they won’t use their guns.”

The Man of Steel and the Amazonian Princess dove back at the dozen guards.

Batman and Green Lantern had the same idea, and had abandoned their search of their assigned buildings in favor of confronting the guards head-on.  As confident as they were, sixty to two odds were not in their favor.

“This isn’t looking too good, Batman,” Green Lantern said.  “How long do we need to give the kids to find Phuong?”

“As long as we can give them,” Batman replied tensely.  “They don’t just have to find her, they have to evacuate her to the plane.”

Green Lantern formed a shield with his ring and deflected a combination of bullets and darts, “Maybe we should throw a little encouragement their way to hurry up?  We can’t keep this up all day.”

_Meanwhile…_

Robin’s muscles coiled at Batman’s announcement that he was under attack, and it took every bit of restraint he had to keep from running to his aid.  _I’ve got a mission, and the sooner I complete it, the sooner Batman can get to safety._

Superboy felt Robin tense next to him, “How can you just wait there?”

“It’s not easy,” Robin said with a sigh.  “Come on, let’s start our search.”

“Okay,” Superboy said, “Where?”

Robin pointed to their right, “We were tasked with searching in that direction, so that’s where we’re going.  It looks like we have six buildings to search before moving deeper into the camp.  It’s a good bet that the Justice League isn’t searching anymore.  We might have more buildings to search, if we don’t find Phuong over here.”

Superboy started to rise, and stopped when he got to his knees.  He looked back at Robin and asked, “What?”

Robin looked confused, “What, what?”

“You didn’t snap at me when I started to move.”

Robin shook his head, “Why would I do that?”

Superboy sighed, “People always question when I move on my own on a mission, without someone telling me to move.”

Robin stood and offered a hand to Superboy.  Pulling the youth to his feet, Robin said, “Maybe it’s time we stopped doing that.  The last thing we need is for you to start second-guessing yourself, especially now.  Let’s go.  Stay close, and watch for guards.”

The boys moved to the back of the closest building.  It appeared to be a blockhouse, with small windows spaced evenly, just below the roofline.  Robin whispered to Superboy, “Get up there and check those windows.  See if anyone is still inside this building.”

Superboy floated up to the first window as Robin moved to the end of the building.  Superboy looked down to report in, and was startled to see that Robin had moved on.  He flew over to Robin, but the Boy Wonder spoke before Superboy could say anything.

“Check all four windows, then report back.”

“Oh.  Right.”

Robin gave a small smirk as the Super Youth flew away again.  He was gone for half a minute before he returned.

Floating above Robin’s head, Superboy said, “I can’t see anyone in this building.  At least, there wasn’t anyone in the four rooms with the windows.  They were, um, bathroom windows.”

Robin nodded, “That’s what I thought.  Let’s get around to the other side of the building, slowly and quietly.”

“Can we afford to move slowly,” Superboy asked.

_No, we can’t,_ Robin thought.  “If we’re detected, then everything our parents are doing to provide a distraction with the guards will be for nothing.  We have to be careful.”

“O-okay.”

The Super Sons peeked around the blockhouse to find a well-lit, but empty, compound.  There were no windows on the front side of the building, so they crept up to the door.  The door was standing open as Robin peeked around the doorjamb into the building.

“More of those guards must have come out of here.  The building is empty.  Move north, to the next building.”

Superboy turned around and began to move towards the next building.  Robin smiled as Superboy stopped at the end of the structure and glanced around the corner.  _He moved in the right direction without me having to tell him which way north is.  He stopped and checked for guards, even though we were standing where he checked just a minute and a half ago.  No matter what he thinks of his own abilities, he can do this.  I’ll have to remind him of that when this is all over._

Robin joined Superboy and patted his shoulder.  Superboy moved to the next building.  This one was smaller than the last one they searched.  This one also had the front door standing open.  A quick search found this one to be just as empty as the last one. 

Exiting the building, Robin froze.  _We’re being watched.  I hate that feeling._

Superboy whispered, “What is it?”

“We’re being watched,” Robin replied softly.

Superboy seemed to accept the news, “Can you see where they are?”

Robin shook his head slightly, “Not yet.  I can feel it, though.  Continue our search.”

The youths moved to the third building in their row, the first of what Robin thought was a line of older huts.  Closer inspection showed that assumption to be false.  A thatched roof was placed on top of a corrugated steel roof, to throw off aerial surveillance.  If anything, this building, and the others that Robin could see in this line of what he assumed to be older buildings, were of more solid construction than the larger buildings.  The cinder block walls were stronger than the lath and plaster of the blockhouses, and they triggered an uneasy feeling in Robin.

_What is this feeling,_ Robin asked himself. _This is different than the feeling of being watched.  This is something…personal.  What is it?  Why does seeing this building bother me?_

Robin looked up, to try to calm his nerves, and got an answer to his first question.  He could see, above the roofs of the compound, a small lookout post built into a tree.  A single sentry stood watch, sweeping his binoculars around the compound.  His attention seemed to be captured by the fight in the distance.

Robin quickly took a knee, and Superboy joined him.  “What is it, Rob?”

“I found who’s watching us,” The Boy Wonder said.

The Boy of Steel looked around, “Who is it?  Where are they?”

Robin nodded towards the jungle, “Behind the next building, in a stand in a tree, there is a guard on lookout duty.  He’s watching into the camp, instead of out into the jungle.  Feel like hitting something?”

Superboy gave a half-smirk before his look flattened, “Dad said not to fight, though.”

Robin completed the smirk that Superboy had abandoned, “No, he said don’t join _their_ fight.  He also said to remain undetected at all costs.  After we clear this building, we will be visible to the guard when we move on to the next building.  We can’t have him raising an alarm.  So, here’s what we’ll do.  I’ll clear this building.  You sneak around to the tree line and get close to the guard.  Get up there and make sure he can’t trigger an alarm or alert anyone to our presence.  Sound good?”

Superboy thought for a second before nodding, “Sure.  How should I do it?”

“However you want.  I trust you to be able to take out one sentry on your own.”

Superboy gave a warm smile before ghosting away.  Robin waited a second, to see if the younger boy would come back to ask another question.  When he didn’t, Robin turned his attention to the building.  There was a small window next to the door, and Robin peered through it with one eye in the corner of the window, trying to expose the least amount of himself to whoever might be inside.

Robin didn’t see anything on first glance, so he stood up to get a better look.  Still seeing nothing, Robin moved on to the door.  He gently turned the handle, and found that the door was unlocked.  It took him ten seconds to fully turn the handle, as he was trying not to make a noise, and was trying not to be noticed by anyone possibly inside the building.  Once he was sure that the latch was fully turned, Robin changed tactics and shoved the door open forcefully.  The Boy Wonder rolled into the small room and came up holding a batarang, ready to fling it at his attackers.

However, this building was just as empty as the last two he had searched.

Putting his batarang back in his belt, and telling himself that it was better to be safe than sorry, Robin exited the building.  As he was leaving, he heard a sharp smack, followed by three rather pronounced thumps.  Fifteen seconds later, a smiling Superboy reappeared at Robin’s side.

Robin looked the youth up and down before giving a small smile, “Good job.  Any problems?”

“Nope,” Superboy said while shaking his head.

“Did you have to knock him out of the tree, SB?”

Superboy blushed a bit, “I didn’t mean to.  We’re you watching?”

Robin shook his head, “No, I heard him fall.  It’s okay, Superboy.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  The building is clear.  Let’s move on to the next one.”

The next building was located in the far northeast corner of the compound, directly under the guard tower Superboy had just rendered inoperative.  It might have just been Robin’s paranoid mind, but he thought the lights were just a bit brighter around this building.

Sneaking up to this cinderblock building the same way they had approached the last one, the boys knelt under the window in the front wall.  Superboy was the first one to peek over the sill.  He gave a sharp gasp and pulled his head out of sight again.

“There’s someone in this one.”

Robin’s eyes widened under his mask, and he took a quick peek of his own.  Towards the back wall of the room was a single wooden chair, with a petite girl tied to it.  Robin took a second look before ducking out of sight again.

_It’s her, I know it.  It’s about time we found her.  I should have known that they would put Phuong in the farthest building from our entry point._

“We found her,” Robin whispered to Superboy.

Superboy gave an excited grin, “Let’s get her, so we can get out of here.”

Robin put a hand on Superboy’s arm, “Not so fast.  She’s being held for ransom.  If their attack force is as big as the one we saw earlier, then there must be some traps around their prisoner.  How’s your x-ray vision?”

Superboy shook his head, “Not too good, why?”

Robin sighed, “I was hoping you could look through the wall to see if there is anyone else in the building with her.”

“Why can’t I just use the window,” Superboy asked.

“Because people on the inside can look out just as easily as people on the outside can look in.  Remember, this isn’t a hostage rescue situation.  This is a trap meant to capture or kill the Justice League, and the girl in that chair is the mastermind behind it.”

Superboy nodded, “Yeah, I remember all that.  What I’m saying is, I’m almost as fast as Mercury and Impulse.  I can look and get down again before anyone inside can see me.”

_I forgot about that._   Robin nodded slowly, “Okay, do it.”

A second later, Robin thought there was something wrong with his eyes.  Superboy blurred for a second, then turned back to Robin with a smile, “She’s alone in there.”

“You’re sure?”

Superboy blurred again, then said, “Yep, it’s just her.”

Robin gave another small smile, “Good job.”

“How do you want to do this,” Superboy asked.

“Let’s report in first,” Robin said, “Then, we’ll play it like a true hostage rescue.  We don’t want her knowing that we know anything about her involvement with Pure Earth until we get her back to the plane, if we can help it.  If she thinks we’re falling for the ransom demand, then she will be more willing to go with us.”

“Okay,” Superboy said, “I’ll follow your lead.”

“Batman, we have eyes on Tinh Khiet Phuong,” Robin said quietly into his radio.

“Location, Robin,” Batman asked.

Robin looked around, “Northeast corner of the compound.  It looks like an old hut, but the build quality is surprisingly good.  Just another way of showing that this is all a setup.”

“What sort of opposition do you have over there,” Superman asked.

Robin shook his head, “Just the door, that I can see.  I’m sure there are some traps I haven’t seen yet.”

“Move with caution,” Batman said, “See if you can extract her to the jet without being seen.  We might be a while.”

That caught Robin’s attention, “Do you want our help?  We can hit them from behind, maybe distract them from you long enough for you to get the upper hand?”

“Continue with your task as ordered, Robin,” Superman said, taking the words out of Batman’s mouth, “I don’t want either of you in this fight.”

“But, Dad,” Superboy started.

Superman interrupted, “If you want to keep your cape, you will not complete the rest of that thought.  Follow orders.  Stay with Robin and extract the subject to the jet.”

_The fight must be pretty bad for Superman to snap at Superboy like that,_ Robin thought.  “One more thing,” Robin started.

“It better be damn important,” Batman growled.

Robin almost smirked.  _Can’t let Superboy be in trouble on his own._   “Once we get Phuong back to the jet, do you want us to start interrogating her?”

The line was silent for a bit, until Green Lantern said, “She might respond better to younger people.”

Three audible sighs came over the comms before Batman said, “Make sure you record everything.  Video and audio.  We’ll probably have to present this in front of the World Court.”

“No screw-ups, boys,” Superman said.

Robin nodded, then asked, “Wonder Woman, is the jet open?”

“The hatch will respond to your trackers when you get close,” Wonder Woman replied.

Robin nodded again, “Okay.  We’re moving now.”

“Report in every few minutes,” Batman said.

“Will do,” Robin said as he turned off his microphone.

 

**A/N:  Getting close to the end, now.  I was hoping to be able to get chapters 15 and 16 out at the same time, but that didn’t work out.  Chapter 16 should bring everything to a close.  I just realized I’ve been writing this story continuously for eight months, and the first chapter was completed over a year ago.  You would think this would be longer, and better, with this amount of time.**

**I hope to get the last chapter up before Christmas.  It will be my present to all of you.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	16. 16

Hero Hunt

Chapter 16

_The following takes place immediately after chapter 15._

 

“Batman, we have eyes on Tinh Khiet Phuong,” Robin said quietly into his radio.

“Location, Robin,” Batman asked.

Robin looked around, “Northeast corner of the compound.  It looks like an old hut, but the build quality is surprisingly good.  Just another way of showing that this is all a setup.”

“What sort of opposition do you have over there,” Superman asked.

Robin shook his head, “Just the door, that I can see.  I’m sure there are some traps I haven’t seen yet.”

“Move with caution,” Batman said, “See if you can extract her to the jet without being seen.  We might be a while.”

That caught Robin’s attention, “Do you want our help?  We can hit them from behind, maybe distract them from you long enough for you to get the upper hand?”

“Continue with your task as ordered, Robin,” Superman said, taking the words out of Batman’s mouth, “I don’t want either of you in this fight.”

“But, Dad,” Superboy started.

Superman interrupted, “If you want to keep your cape, you will _not_ complete the rest of that thought.  Follow orders.  Stay with Robin and extract the subject to the jet.”

_The fight must be pretty bad for Superman to snap at Superboy like that,_ Robin thought.  “One more thing,” Robin started.

“It better be damn important,” Batman growled.

Robin almost smirked.  _Can’t let Superboy be in trouble on his own._   “Once we get Phuong back to the jet, do you want us to start interrogating her?”

The line was silent for a bit, until Green Lantern said, “She might respond better to younger people.”

Three audible sighs came over the comms before Batman said, “Make sure you record everything.  Video and audio.  We’ll probably have to present this in front of the World Court.”

“No screw-ups, boys,” Superman said.

Robin nodded, then asked, “Wonder Woman, is the jet open?”

“The hatch will respond to your trackers when you get close,” Wonder Woman replied.

Robin nodded again, “Okay.  We’re moving now.”

“Report in every few minutes,” Batman said.

“Will do,” Robin said as he turned off his microphone.

Robin looked over at Superboy to catch the youth wiping his nose and staring at the ground.  Speaking quietly, Robin asked, “Are you alright, Superboy?”

“Dad never yells at me like that,” Superboy said with a sniffle.

With a sigh, Robin wrapped an arm around Superboy’s shoulders.  “He’s not mad at you, you know.  You saw how many people they’re fighting.  You know what Pure Earth’s weapons can do.  You know how delicate a situation this is.  If you and I stay out of their fight, it gives them one less thing to worry about.  All of them would jump in front of Pure Earth’s weapons to save us, if they thought we were in danger.  That won’t help the fight, though.  It’s like during the war.  We were left at Mount Justice so the League could handle Brainiac without worrying about us.”

“Batman doesn’t worry about you,” Superboy asked in a small voice.

Robin smirked, “If your Father hadn’t said what he said, my Father would.  He worries about me, but this isn’t my first major mission.  It _is_ yours, and Superman is scared for your safety.  I guess this means he really does trust me, if he’s leaving you in my hands.”

Superboy looked up, “So, what do we do?”

_Good, he’s ready now._   “Complete our mission.  Let’s check the door for traps, then move in.”

“What’s our plan,” Superboy asked.

Robin shook his head as he pulled a small mirror on a stick out of his utility belt, “We play it by ear.  The only overarching plan is to get Phuong back to the jet.”

“ _You_ want to play it by ear,” Superboy asked, surprised.

“If we get stuck in a plan, we’ll be less able to respond to changes in the situation.  If we stick to following a goal, it doesn’t really matter how we get to the goal.”

Robin used the mirror to check around the door for traps as Superboy said, “That’s a pretty cool way of thinking.  Did your Dad teach you that?”

Robin shook his head, “My Mother, actually.  I guess not everything she did was evil, after all.”

Superboy was confused and concerned by the statement, but knew better than to ask Robin anything involving his mother.

Robin stood and put the mirror away, “The door is clear.  Be a little super and open that thing up.”

Superboy gave a determined smile as he stepped forward and gripped the door knob.  He took a stance and yanked on the knob with all his might.  The door gave a tremendous crack, but didn’t open.  Instead, the door knob was ripped from the door, and Superboy stumbled back several steps.

Robin sighed and shook his head, “Superboy, come on.  This is no time to play around.”

“Sorry,” Superboy said sheepishly.

Robin rolled his eyes, “Think before you act.  Why is that the one lesson my whole team can’t seem to remember?  Make this easy on yourself.  Look at the hinges before you try to force a door.”

Superboy dropped the now mangled and crushed door knob before walking up to the door again.  He looked around and said, “Um, what hinges?  I don’t see any hinges.”

“I know,” Robin said flatly, “They’re on the inside of the door.  That means the door opens in, not out.”

“Oh,” Superboy said, with a blush in his cheeks.

“Try again,” Robin said patiently.

Superboy squared up to the door again and placed both hands on the surface.  Giving a grunt and a shove, the door flew off of its hinges and into the room.  A high-pitched scream followed the breach, followed by a crash.

Robin cringed at the scream and said, “Please tell me you didn’t just hit our target with the door.”

Superboy stuck his head in the opening to see the door leaning broken against the far wall, an uncomfortably close distance from their terrified subject.

“Nope, I didn’t hit her.”

Robin and Superboy entered the small hut slowly.  Robin scanned his eyes around the space, and found something he was sure he wasn’t supposed to see.  _What was that flash in the corner?  Wait…I should have guessed.  We’re being filmed._

Robin leaned over to whisper in Superboy’s ear, “Keep a lookout at the door.  Let me know if anyone is coming.  I’ll handle Phuong.”

“Why are you whispering,” Superboy whispered back.

“Because we’re being recorded.”

To his credit, Superboy didn’t react.  He didn’t flinch.  He didn’t look for a camera.  He didn’t shout.  Superboy merely nodded and whispered, “Got it.  Let’s get out of here quick, if that’s what’s going on.”

_He’s learning.  Good._ “Go.”

Superboy walked back to the door to stand guard while Robin approached the visibly quaking hostage.

Speaking gently, Robin asked, “Are you Tinh Khiet Phuong?”

The girl looked up at Robin in confusion and spoke to the Boy Wonder.  Robin didn’t understand a single word that came out of her mouth.  _Of course, she’s speaking Vietnamese.  I’ll have to get Father to teach me some basic phrases once this is all over.  We don’t have time for this now._

Robin switched to Mandarin and said, “We have to move.  My name is Robin.  Are you Tinh Khiet Phuong?”

The girl still looked confused, but spoke in French, “I only speak Vietnamese and French.  Please, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

_Finally, a language I understand.  I’ve got you, now._   Robin spoke in perfect French, “How could you work as a translator in the Chinese Consulate in Hanoi and not speak Chinese?”

The girl’s eyes widened in shock as Robin switched back to speaking English, “I know you can understand me when I am speaking English, so answer my question.  Are you Tinh Khiet Phuong?”

The girl stared at Robin for a second before speaking in accented English, “You already know who I am, if you are here, looking for me.”

“Yes or no.”

The girl looked down again, “Yes, I am Tinh Khiet Phuong.”

_Good, now I can report positive identity confirmation when Batman asks for his after-action report._   “We need to get moving.  I’m Robin.  He’s Superboy.  We have a jet standing by, but it’s a bit of a walk.  Are you okay to move?  Did they hurt you at all?”

Phuong shook her head, “They were very kind to me, at least, for kidnappers.  Did the Consulate send you?”

_Of course, they were nice to you.  They’re your people, after all._   “No, the Chinese Consulate didn’t send us.”

Phuong looked surprised at the news.  Robin continued, “We spoke with the Consul General.  They received the ransom demand and are saying that you are not their responsibility, and they will not waste resources to secure your release.  I’m here with the Justice League.”

The girl looked scared as Robin pulled a knife from his utility belt and approached.  He cut the ropes tying Phuong to the chair and said, “Come on.  We underestimated the strength of these smugglers.  We don’t have any more time to waste.”

Robin caught the relieved look on Phuong’s face as he pulled her out of the chair and headed for the door.  _What was that look for?  She must think we don’t know about her connection to Pure Earth.  Sorry, lady.  You’re going to wish we’d left you here, with what you have coming.  At least she didn’t ask why I didn’t untie her hands yet._

Robin held on to Phuong’s upper arm as they approached the door.  “How’s it look, SB?”

“Clear, so far,” the Boy of Steel said.

Robin nodded, “You remember the way back to the plane?”

“More or less,” Superboy said.

“Lead the way.  I’ll report in.”  Robin activated his radio and said, “Phuong recovered.  Positive identification made.  We’re heading for the jet.”

Batman replied in a strained voice, “We’ll be a while.  Opposition is heavy over here.”

Robin shook his head, “I can spare Superboy, if you want another hand.”

“No, you can’t, Robin,” Superman snapped, “Stick to the plan.”

“He can handle more than you want him to,” Robin grumbled under his breath.  Speaking normally, he said, “We’re moving.  Call before you get back to the plane, so we know you’re coming.”

“Out,” Batman said testily, cutting off the transmission.

_Love you, too, Dad,_ Robin thought sarcastically as they headed for the jungle.

Robin and Superboy stopped and backed up as they rounded a hut and saw two guards standing in front of the door.

“Do we go around,” Superboy asked.

Robin shook his head, “No, we go straight through them.  They’re yours.  Take them down.”

“But…”

Robin interrupted, “If we don’t take them down, they will go join the fight against the League.”

“Dad doesn’t want us in their fight, though,” Superboy said nervously.

Robin tried not to sigh as he forced a smirk onto his face, “This isn’t their fight.  It’s ours.  We are following their directions.  We’re heading for the plane, and those guards are in our way.  Now, take them down, fast and quiet.”

“You want me to hit them?”

“You didn’t have a problem with taking out the sentry in the tree.  Why are you asking so many questions about taking these two down?”

“What if there’s more inside that hut,” Superboy asked quietly.

Robin shrugged, “We aren’t worried about them.  If you take these two out, they can’t alert any potential reinforcements.”

Superboy nodded slowly, “So, just hit them?”

“If you want to get back to the plane and complete our mission, I think you’ll have to.”

“How hard should I hit them,” Superboy asked nervously.

_Why does he ask me that every time I ask him to hit someone?  He must have nearly killed someone on patrol with Superman.  I’ll have to ask him about it later._   “Remember in training, when I was choking you, and you hit me?  I want you to hit them harder than that.  Knock them out.  I don’t want them waking up until we are back in the plane.”

Superboy swallowed and said, “Okay.”

Superboy took another breath, then jumped and flew at the two guards.  There was a resounding crack as Superboy hit both guards with one punch.  The guards flopped lifelessly to the ground.  They wouldn’t know what hit them for the next three days.

Robin walked up to Superboy with a smile, “See, you can do it.  Good boy.”

“I think I hit them too hard,” Superboy said nervously.

Robin glanced down, then said, “Nonsense, they’re still breathing.  They won’t be following anyone until their concussions clear up, which is exactly what I wanted from you.  Let’s go.”

The boys left the camp, with Phuong in tow, and headed for the plane.  Robin asked Phuong, “Still okay?”

Phuong sighed, “I can’t believe the Consulate, my employer, wouldn’t even consider coming after me.”

_I already have her.  We’re maybe three or four minutes away from the plane.  She isn’t getting away.  I guess I can let on to knowing more than she thinks._   “I’m not that surprised.  Invading a foreign country brings a lot of complications.”

“I’ve been a loyal employee for two years,” Phuong said, “You’d think they would at least negotiate.”

“That’s an awful lot to ask for the return of a wanted terrorist.”

Phuong froze at the statement.  She tried to cover her reaction, but it’s hard to hide something like that from a person who is holding on to your arm.  “I-I’m a kidnap victim.  What are you talking about?”

Robin rolled his eyes, “It doesn’t count as a kidnapping when it’s your own people.”

Robin could detect a quake of fear run through Phuong’s arm.  “They said they were opium smugglers who were trying to hurt the Chinese government.”

Robin shook his head, “Or, that’s what you told them to say.”

A tear slid down Phuong’s cheek, “I’m the victim here.  Why are you saying this?  I don’t even know who these people are.”

The door to Wonder Woman’s jet opened as Robin approached.  He couldn’t help noticing that he had to force the teen into the plane.  “Superboy, secure the door and stand guard.  If anything happens, she doesn’t get past you.  Do whatever you have to do to keep her here.”

Superboy nodded as Robin turned to a panel and prepared the recording equipment.  He then activated his radio and said, “Batman, we are in the jet.  Beginning interrogation.  Out.”

Batman didn’t respond, which is what Robin expected.  Robin changed his radio frequency and said, “Red Robin, are you there?”

It took a minute before he got a response, “I’m here with Nightwing.  What’s up?”

“I have Phuong.  I’m going to need you two in my ear when I interrogate her.”

“Wait,” Nightwing said, “Why are you doing the interrogation?”

Robin sighed, “This whole situation was a trap for us.  The League is still handling the Pure Earth soldiers.”

“What about Batman,” Red Robin asked nervously.

“He’s fine, at last report,” Robin said, “Superboy and I are following his orders.”

“What do you need from us,” Red Robin asked.

Robin thought for a second, “Red Robin, I’m going to need facts and figures from our investigation and about Pure Earth.  Feed them to me when you think I need them.  I’ll keep my comm open, so you two can hear everything.  Nightwing, I need you in my ear, to talk me down.”

“What,” Nightwing asked.

Robin let a rough breath go, “This is Tinh Khiet Phuong.  She’s smug, and she thinks she knows more than we do.  I already want to punch her, but I can’t.  This is being recorded.  Superboy won’t be able to stop me if I start to lose it.  I need you in my ear to calm me down.  You’ve done it before.  You know what to listen for.  There can be no mistakes with this interrogation.  You are probably the most important person in this interrogation, Nightwing.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Nightwing said nervously.

“Okay, here we go.”

Robin turned back to their captive to find Superboy standing right in front of Phuong, glaring down at the teen.  He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and asked, “What happened?”

“She was trying to leave,” Superboy said.

Robin shrugged, “Well, that’s because she knows who has her now.”  Robin turned to the girl and said, “You’ll notice I didn’t tie you to the chair, unlike your own people.”

Phuong looked directly at the camera mounted on the wall, “You tied my hands, though.”

Robin rolled his eyes, “No, I just declined to untie them when we took you out of their prison.  Took you long enough to notice that.”

“What do you want with me,” Phuong asked with mock fear entering her voice.

Robin sighed.  _She’s playing for the camera.  She knows she’s being recorded, and is trying to make us look bad.  Sorry, lady, I’m smarter than you._   “You are Tinh Khiet Phuong, south Vietnam native.  Until recently, you were employed with the Chinese Consulate in Hanoi, north Vietnam, as a translator.  How did you get a job at the Consulate at fourteen years old?”

Phuong looked at Robin like this was a strange question, “We do what we can do to help our families.  That probably doesn’t mean anything to someone like you.”

“Easy, Robin,” came from Nightwing over the radio.

Robin just shrugged the comment off, “Yes, we do help our families.  I know finding my family has changed my life, just like losing your family changed yours.  Did the Consulate know you were fourteen when you started working there?”

Phuong shook her head, “I didn’t start working there until I was fifteen, but yes, they knew I was fourteen when I was hired.”

Robin paced in front of the girl, “Why would they hire someone so young?  I’m close enough to your age where it’s not too creepy to say out loud that you are an attractive girl.  Could your employer have had the same thought?”

“Where are you going with this, Robin,” Red Robin whispered in Robin’s ear.

It took a second for Phuong to get the inference.  She gasped and said, “How dare you!”

“I’m just trying to understand how you got in this position,” Robin said, ignoring both Red Robin and Tinh Khiet, “I mean, you’re a school girl from south Vietnam.  How do you get a job interpreting at a foreign consulate, without something more to offer?  And, once you have that job, how do you go from a low-level assistant to the founder and leader of a terrorist organization?”

The girl opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything.  She was shocked into silence at the accusation.

Robin stopped pacing and stared intently at Phuong, “You are Pure Earth.  You founded it.  You’re pulling the strings.  Your ideas are putting the world in danger.  So, explain it to me, Tinh Khiet Phuong.  Explain what I’m missing!”

“Calm down,” Nightwing said firmly in Robin’s ear.  Robin’s voice had been rising over the last minute, to the point where he was almost yelling at the teen.

Tinh Khiet leaned back from Robin as his voice rose.  She cringed for a second before she bent forward and started sobbing.  If her hands weren’t still tied behind her back, she would have been covering her face with her palms.

Superboy glanced back and forth between Robin and Phuong in concern.  “Dude, Rob.  Did you have to do that?”

Robin winked at Superboy, even though it wasn’t seen past his mask.  He then leaned forward and said calmly to Phuong, “Are you done yet?  Fake tears don’t work on me.”

Phuong lifted her head again.  Her face was dry, her eyes were blazing, and she was shaking in anger.  “You god damn Metas think you’re so great.  You think you’re better than everyone.  You’re worth nothing!  What makes you more important than the world?  What makes you more important than my family?  So much of the world was destroyed to protect you.  Why wasn’t the same effort put forth for the rest of the world?  We wouldn’t have even been a target if it weren’t for you.  Millions died in the war, and for what?  For nothing!  For a bunch of worthless, entitled, assholes, running around in capes and tights and masks and pretending they’re better than everyone else.”

Phuong panted to a stop, and Superboy asked quietly, “How did you know?”

“This isn’t my first time doing something like this.”  Robin turned back to Phuong and said, “Okay, now we can get somewhere.  What would you say if I told you that you were completely wrong?”

“Take it easy,” Nightwing said in Robin’s ear, “You’re not Batman.  You don’t need to follow the Batman school of interrogation.”

Robin gave a quick smirk at the comment as Phuong looked up, “Oh, yeah?  What am I wrong about?”

The adversarial tone didn’t faze Robin as much as Phuong hoped it would, “Quite a lot, actually.  First of all, you assume you and your country were ignored during the war.”

“Of course, we were ignored,” Phuong spat, “No one even offered to help us until after the war was over.”

“How did you ask for this help?”

Robin’s calm manner was infuriating Tinh Khiet, and impressing Nightwing.  “The normal ways.  TV, internet, radio, telephone.”

“All of which didn’t work for most of the war,” Robin said.

Phuong rolled her eyes, “Another Western excuse, trying to absolve yourself of your immeasurable guilt.”

Robin nodded, “Yes, I’m sure the West is guilty of quite a few things.  By the way, living in the west doesn’t automatically make one a Westerner.  Just pointing that out.  As for your methods of communication, I assure you, none of those were working during the war.  I saw it happen.  We were attacked by an alien force, and one of their first acts was to take down communications networks worldwide.”

“Why should I believe you,” Phuong asked defensively, “What proof do you have?”

“What do you need, Robin,” Red Robin asked in Robin’s ear.

Robin ignored his brother, already knowing which argument he was going to pull out.  “What proof?  It’s quite simple, really.  When your messages requesting help were sent out, who were they sent to?”

Phuong cocked her head, in much the same way all of the Robins did, “I don’t understand.”

Robin nodded, “A minute ago, you accused the west of not caring for southeast Asia.  When you called for help, did those calls only go to the United States and Northern Europe?”

Phuong shook her head, “Of course not.  We sent out general calls to everyone.”

“Then, where was China,” Robin asked quickly, “Why didn’t you get aid from Russia, or Japan, or Australia?  You blame the lack of response on the west when there were other powers, who are far closer, who didn’t respond either.  They didn’t respond because not one of your calls were received.”

Phuong truly hadn’t though of that before.  It was obvious, now that it had been pointed out.

“Nice, Little Brother,” Nightwing said softly.

Robin gave Tinh Khiet a minute to think before asking, “If you could be wrong about that, isn’t it possible that you could be wrong about other parts of your complaint?”

Phuong didn’t answer, but she looked up curiously.  Robin asked, “Can we talk about the ‘worthless, entitled, assholes’ now?”

Phuong’s eyes narrowed, “You can talk all you want, you aren’t going to change my mind on that topic.”

Robin shrugged, “Maybe not, but can I at least offer a little information?”

“Like what?”

Robin thought for a second as he resumed his pacing, “You don’t hate Metas as much as you let on.”

Phuong looked at Robin in disbelief, “I started an organization that’s committed to the eradication of all Metas.”

_That admission was a little too easy to get out of her, but we’ll take it,_ Red Robin thought to himself.

“You also equated Metas with heroes,” Robin said, “There has to be at least grudging respect somewhere in there for you to do that.”

“They’re all still assholes,” Phuong grumbled.

Robin laughed at the remark, “Can we at least change that to _some_ of them are assholes?”

Phuong shrugged, “I haven’t met all of them.  I guess there is a possibility that some of them are okay.”

“Have you met _any_ of them,” Robin asked curiously.

Tinh Khiet didn’t answer for several seconds.  Robin gave a small nod, “I see.  Can I let you in on a little secret?  Not everyone who runs around in cape and tights is a Meta.  Not all Metas are assholes.  You see, I go around in a cape, but no tights.  I’m not a Meta.  I have no powers whatsoever.”

Phuong’s eyes widened, “But, how is that possible?  Even in Vietnam, we’ve heard of Batman and Robin.  How can you do the things you do without powers?”

_Huh, I didn’t know we were world famous,_ Robin thought.  _I think I’m getting through to her._   “Through training and hard work, and a willingness to ignore our personal limits in order to get the job done.  Batman doesn’t have any powers, except the power of determination.  I am not a Meta.  I have no powers.  I _am_ an asshole, though.”

Phuong gave a soft smile as Robin waved Superboy forward, “This is Superboy.  He is a Meta.  He has more powers than you can shake a stick at.  His father is Superman, quite possibly the most powerful being on the planet.  Both of them are as far from being assholes as you can get.

“Hi,” Superboy said softly, giving a small wave.

Robin snaked an arm around Superboy’s shoulders, “Superboy and I, along with Superman and Batman, might be very different, but our goal is the same as yours.  We just want to defend our homes.  We just want the people who live near, and around, and with us to be safe.  We are no different than anyone who joins a police force or a national army.  We work with our local police all the time, trying to preserve law and order.  We have spent the last twenty-six hours circling the globe, trying to put out hot spots and save lives, after a rash of bomb threats and terrorist attacks.  We went because we were asked to, not to look superior to anyone.”

Robin took a breath, “Not all Metas do things like this.  Most don’t.  Most just want to live their lives like normal people.  Some choose to use their powers to commit crimes.  What it boils down to is, Metas and non-Metas face the same problems.”

Phuong looked at the boys again, her gaze souring at the sight of Robin’s arm around Superboy.  “How can you stand there, touching that…Meta.”

Robin sighed, _so much for getting through to her._   “Because this Meta is one of my best friends.  Yes, he possesses incredible powers.  The most incredible power of all, though, is that he is a genuinely likeable person.  I didn’t want to get to know him when we first met, but I’m glad I did.  He is a person.  He is a normal boy, and he doesn’t deserve the blind hatred Pure Earth has thrown at him.”

Phuong snarled, “My family and friends didn’t deserve to be wiped out in a war fought to protect him, either.”

Superboy winced at the rebuke, and Robin squeezed the youth’s shoulder comfortingly, “I think you’ve got a couple facts wrong.  It’s true, Metas were placed in protective custody during the war…”

“Because the world values them more than my people,” Phuong interrupted harshly.

“Because they were targeted by the invaders,” Robin shot back.

“Careful, Robin,” Red Robin said over the radio, “You’re getting close to information that’s still classified.”

Robin took a breath, then said, “The invaders wanted Metas, so they were placed in protective custody.  We were warned before the war, and we took protective measures.”

“Why didn’t you just hand over the Metas to the invaders,” Phuong asked, “Then they would have left.”

Robin shook his head, “Have you ever heard of Appeasement?”  Phuong shook her head, so Robin continued, “It was a policy put in place in the years before the second World War.  Hitler started annexing lands around Germany, and the world powers let him, in the hopes that it would make him happy, and he would stop his advances on his own.  Instead, due to the lax attitude, we got World War II.”

Phuong shook her head, “What does that have to do with this?”

Superboy rolled his eyes.  Even _he_ understood the metaphor, and the point Robin was trying to get across.  He tried to simplify it a bit for the girl, and said, “If you give a mouse a cookie.”

Phuong and Robin both stared at the younger boy.  Phuong automatically replied, “He’s going to want a glass of milk.”

_Wow, she actually understood what he was talking about_ , Robin thought, _I didn’t._   He shook his head, “Either way, you don’t give in to bullies.  Once they learn they can walk all over you, it doesn’t stop.”

“The rest of the world still shouldn’t have been ignored,” Phuong said.

Robin was starting to get frustrated.  _This isn’t working.  I’m running out of arguments.  Where the hell is Father?_   “What do you think would have happened if the invaders demanded that we hand over all of the Vietnamese school girls?  Would you want us to hand them all over, like you want us to hand over all of the Metas?”

Phuong shook her head, “No, that would be ridiculous.”

“Then, why is it okay if it’s Metas?  It’s okay because you want all the Metas gone, right?  I’m betting you didn’t give a damn about Metas before the war.  You didn’t start caring about them until you used a connection at the Consulate to learn that Metas were protected during the war.  Do you believe in _anything_ your group spouts?”

“Of course, I do,” Phuong snapped, “It’s my group.”

Robin was still hot, despite Superboy’s hand patting his elbow, trying to get him to relax, “Okay, let’s talk about your group.”

Robin put a hand to his ear, to pretend like he was activating his radio, even though the line had been open for the entire questioning, “Red Robin, I need crime stats for Pure Earth.  Start with bodies.  How many people have been killed by Pure Earth operatives and operations?”

“I’ll tell you, if you calm down a bit,” Red Robin said while accessing statistics.  Red Robin took a couple extra seconds for Robin to breathe before he said, “Seventy-five dead.”

Robin nodded and stared intently at Phuong, “Seventy-five dead, Tinh Khiet.  Guess how many of them were Metas.”

Phuong shook her head, and Robin supplied the answer that Red Robin fed him, “None.  Your anti-Meta group has so far failed to kill one single Meta.  Your people don’t seem too picky about who they kill.”

Phuong gave a small smile, “I didn’t kill anyone.  I never told anyone to kill anyone.  Those deaths are tragic casualties of misguided people, but they aren’t my fault.”

Robin leaned in slightly, “Have you ever heard of Conspiracy to Commit?  You admitted, on camera, mind you, that Pure Earth is your group.  Even if you’ve never touched a weapon in your life, you are responsible for every single one of those deaths.  They were killed in the name of Pure Earth.  How about the bombs?”

Phuong’s smile took on an evil bent, “Not one detonated.”

“Because the world banded together against you.  They were all disarmed.  They still count as terrorist acts.  Some of the bombs were planted on military and government targets.  That counts as either treason or acts of war, depending on the nationalities of the perpetrators.  Every single one of those bombs carries either a life sentence, or the death penalty.”

“Why did you do all of this,” Superboy asked.

Tinh Khiet snarled, “Because the world proved its indifference to us.  The world decided it cares more about you than me.  I don’t know if you pay attention to such things, but after the U.N. meeting, which should have ended the Justice League, support for you grew.  People couldn’t see how dangerous you are.  No one wants to see how things really are.  I had to prove, once and for all, that Metas can’t be trusted.”

Robin sighed, “Is that why you arranged for a fake kidnapping?”

“That ransom demand was real, except…”

“Except you never figured on the Chinese government handing it over to us,” Robin finished for the girl.

Phuong shook her head and nearly sobbed, “They swore they would never work with the Justice League.”

Robin said softly, “Maybe your operatives shouldn’t have planted a bomb at a Chinese nuclear facility?”

Phuong continued to shake her head, so Robin continued, “What were your people going to do if no one responded to the ransom demand?  Would your people have killed you?  Were you planning on faking your death and going into hiding?”

Phuong nodded, “We have a video that was going to be released.  I prepared a statement blaming the Justice League and Metas for my death.  No one came for me out of spite, that kind of thing.”  Phuong sighed heavily and looked up, “What are you going to do with me?”

Robin took a deep breath and thought for a second.  He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I know what I’d like to do to you.  You have attacked the whole world in your vendetta against people who never did a thing to you.  I’ve survived five of your attacks personally, including the three we responded to tonight.  You’ve scared my friends.  None of those are really forgivable offenses.  There’s not enough punishment for what you’ve done…but it isn’t my place to decide your fate.  Under the authority of the Justice League, on behalf of the world at large, you are under arrest, Tinh Khiet Phuong.  Next steps are out of my hands.  Isn’t that right, Batman?”

Phuong and Superboy were both shocked at Robin’s statement, but more shocked when Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern walked into the jet.  Robin was well aware that the heroes had been listening to the questioning for the last ten minutes.

Batman stopped behind his son.  A hand rose to rest on the teen’s back, “That is correct, Robin.  Good job, boys.”

“We’ll take it from here,” Superman said.

Robin released a breath and turned towards the hatch, “She hasn’t been searched yet, but we recorded everything.”

Wonder Woman walked forward to search their prisoner as Robin walked out of the plane.

Superboy walked out of the plane a minute after Robin, to find the older boy punching a tree.  Approaching cautiously, Superboy said, “Rob?  Hey, are you okay?”

Robin turned, leaned against the tree he had just assaulted, and sighed heavily, “What was the point of all that?”

Superboy stared in confusion, “What do you mean?  We just captured their leader.  Pure Earth is toast!”

Robin shook his head, “Not that.  All that questioning.  We didn’t influence her.  We didn’t change her mind.  She’s just as against Metas now as she was yesterday.”

“But she’s going to jail now,” Superboy said, “She can’t hurt anyone there.”

“It doesn’t matter if she goes to jail,” Robin said, shaking his head more insistently, “She amassed thousands of followers, most of whom are still running loose around the world.  You are probably never going to be safe again.”

Superboy smiled, “I’ve got Dad looking out for me, and you looking out for me.  I feel pretty safe.”

Robin sighed, “You can’t kill an idea, Superboy.  Even if Pure Earth completely disappears, their ideology is still out there.”

Superboy eyed Robin for a long second, “What’s really bothering you, Rob?”

Robin sighed again, “Tinh Khiet.  There’s so much anger and hurt wrapped up in her.  I really hoped I could help her when we were talking.  I know what that much hate can do to a person.  It’s…not something you want to see.”  Robin closed his eyes under his mask, “She’s the same age as my girlfriend; just a month younger.”

That surprised Superboy, “Does she remind you of Robin?”

“No, she reminds me of me, and that’s something I don’t want Robin, or you, to see.”

Superboy took a step closer, giving Robin a warm smile, “That’s the old you.  The old you wouldn’t have said the things about me that you did.  Am I really one of your best friends?”

Robin looked up, trying to meet Superboy’s eyes through his mask, “I don’t let enemies sleep in my bed, especially if I’m sleeping in there at the same time.”

“But,” Superboy pushed.

Robin gave a small smirk, “I’m surprised you would even have to ask.  It’s not like I tend to hide my feelings.”

Superboy snorted a laugh and nudged Robin in a friendly way.

Superman walked out of the plane and called out, “Boys, time to go.”

Robin and Superboy returned to the plane with the feeling of contentment that comes with the successful completion of a mission and the company of friends.

 

**A/N: Well, there we go.  What do you think?  You may have noticed that I didn’t wrap everything up in a neat bow this time.  I have a bit of a plan for that, which might or might not happen.  Like Robin said, you can’t kill an idea.  This might not be the last we see of Pure Earth, or a Pure Earth-like group.  That is all to be determined at a future date.  I don’t have current plans along that line, but I wanted to leave just enough open that it could be a possibility in future works.**

**For my next work, I’m going back in the timeline a bit, to complete a story I’ve had on the back burner for a while.  Houses is next, if anyone is still checking my Timeline.  It was originally meant to be a long one-shot, but it is now looking like something closer to a 5-10 chapter story.  First chapter should be up soon after the new year.**

**See, I told all of you that I would get this one done before Christmas.  This last chapter really seemed to flow when I was writing it.  Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate, and happy New Year.  I’ll see you all in 2019.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	17. Epilogue

Hero Hunt

Epilogue

_The following takes place one week after Chapter 16._

 

“You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

Jon looked up at the open door of his bedroom to the source of the softly spoken observation.  Jon was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and had been staring at his lap for the past half hour.  No matter how much he tried to get his mind off of recent events, his thoughts returned to Tinh Khiet.  Today, he had decided to confront his feelings and try to work through them on his own.  Unfortunately, he had just as much luck as when he had tried to ignore the thoughts.

Jon sighed and said, “Hey, Dad.  I’ve just been thinking.”

Clark walked into the room and sat down on the bed next to his son, “That much is obvious.  What’s on your mind?”

Jon turned the top of his head towards his father as Clark ran his fingers through the shaggy black hair.  “This whole thing with Tinh Khiet.  I mean, she’s only a few years older than me, and her whole life is ruined.”

“How does that make you feel,” Clark asked.

“Well, sad,” Jon said.  “She…she was just a normal kid a year or so ago.  She said it herself, when Damian and I were questioning her.  She left home for a job that was supposed to help her family.  She left because she was able to do something to make their lives better, and the only thing it did was make her alone.  She said she never saw her family again after taking the job at the Consulate.”

Clark gave a small nod, “That is sad, Jon.  You aren’t trying to put yourself in her shoes, are you?”

Jon looked up, “No.  Why?”

“Well, you’re taking this situation awfully personally.  Your Mom and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Jon reached over and hugged Clark tightly, “You can’t guarantee that, though.  Tinh Khiet thought her family was always going to be there, too.  Anyway, I wasn’t thinking about me.  I was thinking about you.”

That surprised Clark, “Me?  Why me?”

Jon glanced up, to make sure his comparison wasn’t going to be taken the wrong way, “Well, you told me about how you came to Earth.  You went away, and you never saw your family again, either.”

Clark took and released a slow breath.  “The two situations are completely different, but you are right.  There is that one similarity.  Remember the details of my story, though.  Krypton was a doomed world.  Our sun went supernova.  Kryptonian scientists knew when it was going to happen hundreds of years before I was born.  From the records I reviewed from my capsule, it was the Kryptonian way to accept fate, and try to bear it with dignity.  My father wanted something of our culture to survive, though.  The entire Kryptonian civilization accepted their fates as something unchangeable, something written in the stars before any of us were ever born.  All my father wanted was for someone, somewhere, to remember that there used to be a civilization known as the Kryptonians. 

“As for never seeing my family again, I was barely six months old when my capsule was launched.  I spent the next six months in suspended animation, waiting for my capsule to land on a habitable world.  I wasn’t supposed to land here, it’s just where I ended up.  I only have vague recollections of my Father, and no memory whatsoever of my Mother.  Yes, I never saw them again, but I didn’t have years of memories, like Tinh Khiet did.”

Jon looked down again, “I think that makes it even sadder.”

“I think you’re right, Pal.”

Jon sniffed, “She was in so much pain, Dad.  How will she live with herself, after all this?”

Clark moved Jon to arms’ length, so he could look his son in the eye, “That will be up to her.  The prison is offering her counseling and therapy services.  The Justice League made sure she will be treated well and cared for.  However, no amount of pain excuses what she orchestrated.  She directly incited the commission of multiple murders, over one hundred acts of sabotage, and a rash of attempted bombings.  If any one of those bombs had exploded, the world landscape would be very different right now.  We are damn lucky that we were able to stop them.”

Jon shot Clark a quick grin, “Bad word.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “You spent a week with Bruce and Damian.  I’m sure you heard a whole lot more and a whole lot worse than that recently.”

Jon thought for a second, cocking his head to the side, “Actually, Damian said his Dad told him not to cuss around me.  I told you what he did when he fell out of the tree and broke his ankle, right?”

Clark looked curious, “No, I don’t think you did.”

Jon smiled, “He covered my ears and yelled in different languages, so that I couldn’t hear it and couldn’t understand it.  I still heard it, because he was yelling, but I have no idea what he said.”

Clark matched the smile, “Well, who would have thought?  That was considerate of him.”

The pair was quiet for a minute before Jon looked down and asked, “What happens now?”

“We move on to the next crisis,” Clark said.  “That is the downside to the hero business.  There will always be another crisis.  All we can do is prepare ourselves.  That’s why we started your training group.  For all intents and purposes, you and your teammates should never have been involved in any part of this case.  You shouldn’t have been ambushed.  Wally’s kids never should have been kidnapped.  You and Damian should have never been put in a position to take a bomb off of a nuclear reactor, and you two definitely never should have had to fight through an opium smuggling operation to save the prime suspect in our investigation, only to have to carry out our questioning on your own.”

The super duo fell quiet for several minutes, each thinking their own thoughts.  Finally, Jon asked, “Will it ever end, Dad?”

Clark sighed, “No, but you can’t look at is as something with a beginning or an end.  Crime is eternal.  Pain is eternal.  Suffering is eternal.  No one knows where it started, and there will never be a time without it.  I know that makes it sound like we’re wasting our time trying to fight against crime and pain and suffering, but we’re not.  None of us will ever make an appreciable dent in the wellbeing of the world, but we will make a difference in the wellbeing of individuals.  We have the power to change people’s lives on an individual level, and sometimes, that’s all it takes to spark a larger change.  Do you remember that quote that Mom made you memorize?  The one from Mother Teresa?”

Jon nodded and spoke softly, “We can’t do great things, only small things with great love.”

Clark gave a small smile as he pulled his son into his side, “When we go out there, it shows people that someone out there cares for them.  Sometimes, those people are in a place in their lives where they need to see that more than they need their next breath.  We can’t save the world.  We probably can’t even save Metropolis, but we can try.  We can make a small difference, and when people see that we are making a small difference, they see that they can make a small difference, too.  And guess what?  All those small differences add up to a great difference.  That’s why we do this.  That’s why we train so hard.  Not to fight an endless crusade, but to make a small difference.”

Jon laid his head on Clark’s shoulder and closed his eyes.  His father had given him a lot to think about, but he could tell that this would be actual thinking, instead of just brooding.

“Dad,” Jon asked quietly, several minutes later.

“Jon?”

“Didn’t we save the world?  We stopped the bombs, and Mr. Lantern said those would have started a world war.”

Clark gave a short chuckle, “First of all, it’s Mr. Jordan when he’s out of uniform.  Second, we did stop the bombs, but we didn’t do it alone.  We only took care of the ones that others couldn’t get to in time.  The Justice League really only stopped a small percentage of the devices.”

“So, we made a difference,” Jon asked.  “Others were already working to stop the bombs before we were called in?  Does that mean that they saw our difference and decided to make their own?”

Clark thought about it for a second.  It would have been easy to tell his son that the people who stopped the rest of the bombs were just following orders and doing what they were trained to do, but it didn’t sound right.  “Well, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.  Somewhere along the line, those bomb techs and EOD personnel had to decide to take up a dangerous occupation.  We will probably never know what inspired them.  Who’s to say it wasn’t us?”

Jon smiled and released a small sigh as a small arm wrapped around Clark’s back.  The father and son sat for a minute before Clark asked, “Does that make it easier for you, Jon?”

“It does, Dad.  I guess I wasn’t seeing what I should have been seeing.  I was getting caught up in a larger view.  A world crisis caused this world crisis, and I was thinking that we had to react on a world level.  It’s a lot easier to understand when I think about it on an individual level.  Still, though, Tinh Khiet is all alone now.”

Clark released a breath, “Yes, and no.  Our loved ones never really leave us, if we remember them.  I think, though, that she’s going to do what everyone eventually has to do.”

“What’s that, Dad?”

Clark turned to look Jon in the eye, “She’s going to move on.  She may be alone, but she’s not by herself.  Even in prison, a person can start over.  She will meet people and create a new family.  People do it all the time.  She can choose to be alone and stew in her misery, or she can choose to rise above it.  Just like you can.”

Bright blue eyes met bright blue eyes, and a smile formed on the younger face.  It was soon matched by one on the older face, and the boy stated, “I think I’m done stewing.  I don’t like being alone, and rising above things is what we do best.”

Clark leaned forward and kissed Jon’s forehead, “It sure is.”

A new voice entered the conversation, causing the men to turn to face the door of Jon’s bedroom, where Lois stood, watching the fatherly chat.  “I like the looks of those smiles.  Did you make any major breakthroughs in your funk?”

“I think so,” Jon said.  “I feel a lot better about things now, at least.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Lois said with a smile, “I don’t like it when you walk around here depressed.  Since you’re feeling better, are you going to be okay here?  It’s almost time.”

Jon cocked his head at his mother in confusion.  Clark stood and checked his watch, “That’s right, we have to leave soon, if we’re going to make our reservations.”

The lightbulb flashed to life above Jon’s head as he remembered, “Oh, yeah.  That’s right.  It’s date night.”

“Yes, it is,” Clark said with a smile.  “Your mother and I are going to dinner and a show.  Do you remember what we set up for you?”

Jon gasped happily as a third person appeared at Jon’s bedroom door.  “Damian!”

“I see I’m a bit early,” Damian said, looking at Clark and Lois.  The teen had actually arrived a half hour before he had been requested.  Damian would never tell anyone this, but he was actually excited about being able to get together with his friend.  No one would ever admit to Damian that he didn’t hide his excitement as completely as he thought.

“No worries, Damian.  We’re glad you could come,” Clark said.

Damian nodded, “Is this part of the team training that I wasn’t told about?  Am I now also considered the team babysitter, along with team leader and instructor?”

“You’re not a babysitter,” Lois said.

“How do you figure,” Damian asked, looking up at the woman.

Lois gave an evil smirk to the teen, “Babysitters usually get paid for their services.”

Damian matched the smirk, “If you want to match my weekly allowance, we can call it even.”

Lois rolled her eyes, “Knowing Bruce, your weekly allowance is probably more than my monthly car payment.  Come on, Clark.  We need to get changed if we’re going to make our reservations.”

The adults left the boys alone, and Damian turned to Jon.  Eyeing his friend, Damian asked, “Are you okay?”

Jon nodded, “Yeah.  I am now, at least.  Dad and I just had a long talk.  It really helped.”

_I thought so,_ Damian thought.  “Still thinking about the mission?”

“I was thinking about her,” Jon said, “Tinh Khiet.  I guess I haven’t been around stuff like this before.”

“It won’t be the last time,” Damian said, “The sooner you get used to it, the more effective you will be in these situations.”

“I’m not sure I _want_ to get used to it.”

Damian gave a grim smile, “I hope you never do get used to it.  You just wouldn’t be you anymore, if you started acting like me.”

That confused Jon for a second.  He thought about the conversation, and a question came to his mind.  “Why did you ask if I was still thinking about the mission?  Are you still thinking about it?”

Damian shrugged, “I try not to, but it will still be there, in the back of my mind, until the next mission comes along.  That’s just how my mind works.”

“Did you talk to anyone?  I mean, if you were having problems with it?”

_I guess I can admit this to him,_ Damian thought.  “I did.  I wasn’t exactly having problems with what happened.  In my case, it was more having a hard time believing that the threat was over.”

Jon looked down, “Um, who did you talk to?”

_Does he still need help with his issues?_   “I talked with Father and my brothers.  I also spoke with Dinah.”

“Oh,” Jon said, “You have a lot of people you can talk to.”

_I thought so._   “You do, too, Jon.”

“Mom and Dad can help me a lot, but I can’t always talk to them about everything.”

“Then talk to someone else,” Damian said, “I didn’t think it would help me as much as it has, but it’s been amazing to talk to Dinah.  She told me that, once the team becomes more active with missions, she will be offering her services to everyone.  If you want to talk to her, I’m sure your Father will set it up.”

Jon thought about it hard.  “That’s good to know.  I think I’m okay for now, but I like having that there for me, if I need it.”  Jon then sighed, “I wish…”

Damian cocked his head as Jon trailed off.  He asked softly, “What do you wish?”

“I wish I had a brother to talk to.”

Damian looked down.  For some reason, he couldn’t meet Jon’s eyes as his next comment slipped out of his mouth.  “You do.”

“What do you mean?”

Damian barely glanced up, “I’m not actually related to any of my brothers.  Father either adopted them, or became their legal guardian.  There is no blood relation between any of us, yet we still make up a family.  If we’re just making it up as we go, then there are really no rules to it.  You and I don’t have any special relationship, either, but I’ve sometimes wondered what it would be like to be the older brother.  You can always talk to me, Jon.”

Jon smiled warmly at the teen, “Who says that isn’t a special relationship?  You’d really do that for me?  You-you’d want to be…my brother?”

“I think we’re past friends at this point,” Damian said, “I don’t have a better word to describe it.”

In the hallway, Lois held Clark’s hand over her own mouth, to keep the boys from finding out they had been overheard.  With his free hand, Clark sent a text message to Bruce, saying _Okay, it was a really good idea to get the boys together._   Bruce was confused by the message, but figured that it must be a good thing.

Five minutes later, Lois and Clark found the boys in the living room, setting up a video game.  Lois spoke up from behind the couch, “Okay, you two.  We’re off.  Do you need anything before we go?”

Jon and Damian looked at each other for a second before both said, “No,” at the same time.

The parents smiled as Damian asked, “Is anything off-limits in the kitchen?”

Jon gasped with a smile, “That’s right, you get to make me dinner tonight.  YES!”

Lois looked down at Damian and asked, “Damian, why is Jon more excited for your meals than he is for mine?”

Damian smirked up at the woman, “Because I was trained by Alfred.”

Lois turned to Clark and said, “Clark, we’re staying home for dinner.”

Clark just shook his head, “Another time, Lois.  We have reservations.”

Lois looked back at the boys, “Try to make something healthy, Damian.  Jon knows what he can and can’t touch in there.  Jonathan, I counted the cookies.  You two are allowed two each, and no more.  You better believe I’ll count them when we get home.”

Jon swallowed nervously, “Y-yes, Mom.”

Clark smiled at Jon’s tone.  He could tell that his son was going to make a beeline for the cookies the moment Lois and Clark walked out of the house.  “Have some fun, you two.  We’ll be home late; don’t wait up.”

Damian eyed Clark for a second, “We’re absolutely sure that there are no tracking serums in either of us, and no one actively looking for us, right?  The last time I watched some of my teammates, it didn’t end too well.”

Clark considered the thought for a moment, “No one has any reason to try to kidnap either of you, and according to J’onn, both of you scanned clear after the last mission.”

Damian nodded, “Good.  Just making sure.”

The adults headed for the door, and Clark called out before closing the door behind him, “Have fun, kids.”

_Later That Night…_

If anyone were to ask Jon, he would tell them that this was his best experience with a babysitter in his life.  The boys had fun, pure and simple.  If anyone were to ask Damian, he would agree.  The teen didn’t feel like the one in charge tonight, or the responsible one.  He was just having a good time with his new brother.

By ten-thirty, Jon was dragging.  The boy didn’t normally keep the same hours as Damian.  However, Damian didn’t try to force Jon to stay up.  In fact, Damian was fairly tired himself.  After their latest game, Damian suggested they turn in for the night.  Jon was too tired to disagree.

After changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth, the boys retreated to Jon’s bedroom.  The air mattress would take several minutes to inflate, giving the boys a chance to talk.

“Sorry my bed isn’t bigger,” Jon said with a yawn.

Damian shook his head, “I’m fine with the air mattress, Jon.  Don’t worry about it.  Just don’t step on me in the night, if you have to get up to use the restroom.”

Jon smiled, “I don’t usually get up in the night.  Um, I do snore, though.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I know.”

Damian placed the air mattress next to Jon’s bed and fitted the sheets and blankets.  Jon sat on his bed, watching, before saying, “Hey, Damian?”

Damian glanced over, “Yes, Jon?”

“Um, thanks for coming over today.  I had a lot of fun.”

“I did, too.  We should do this more often.”

Jon nodded, “Yeah.  Um, thanks for what you said earlier, too.  Are we really going to try to act like brothers?”

Damian gave a soft smile, “I’d like that.”

“What should we tell the team,” Jon asked.

Damian shrugged, “Why do we have to tell them anything?  Our team relationship was always meant to bring all of us closer together, so we would work together better in the future.  You and I have taken that step.  We can be as close or as distant with the rest of the team as we want.  The end goal will be for all of us to eventually be as close as family.  It just has to happen naturally, like it did with us.  We can’t force it, and talking about that type of connection with the rest of the team will just make things awkward.”

Jon thought for a second, “Wow.  So, you think the Justice League wanted this to happen from the start?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Cool.”

The boys fell silent for a second, and something Damian had been thinking about for the last week suddenly came to the forefront of his mind.  _It’s time,_ Damian thought.

Damian turned on the air mattress, so his back was facing Jon, and pulled off his t-shirt.  Jon looked at Damian strangely and asked, “What are you doing, Damian?”

_I hope I’m doing the right thing_.  “Two things.  First, it’s a bit warm in here.”

“Oh, sorry.  It does get warm in here.  It was hot out today, and that tends to make it a bit warmer in here at night.”  Jon got up, crossed the room, and turned on the ceiling fan over his bed.  On his way back to bed, he caught a conflicted look on Damian’s face.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

Damian glanced up nervously, “The second thing.  Last year, you asked me about my scars, and I wouldn’t tell you how I got them.  You asked me, basically, why I am the way I am, and I only gave you answers that didn’t reveal anything.  Last week, I said something I shouldn’t have, then shut you down when you asked for clarification.  You’ve put up with so much from me.  It’s time I made it right.  It’s time I answered your questions.”

Jon gasped deeply and sat down on the air mattress next to Damian.  “You mean it?  You’re going to tell me about…all of this?”

Jon’s hand accidently brushed lightly against Damian’s back as he was gesturing to the panoply of scar tissue covering the teen’s back.  Damian involuntarily flinched away from the contact, and Jon recoiled with a hint of fear.

“I’m sorry.  Does that hurt?”

Damian took a deep breath, “No, it doesn’t.  I’m just not used to people touching me.  Actually, no, I take that back.  I don’t really mind touch anymore.  It’s just…there are a lot of bad memories contained in those scars.  I’m…defensive about my past.  I think you know that by now.  You’ll understand why when I’m done.  I just hope that you still want to be around me after you know who I really am and what I’ve done in the past.”

The boys stared at each other for close to a minute.  Hesitantly, Jon reached out again.  Damian had to stop himself from pulling back, and Jon could see the fight in the teen’s eyes.  Jon’s hand landed lightly on Damian’s shoulder, covering the long scar, “I know who you are, Damian.  No matter how bad whatever you want to tell me is, I’ll still want to be around you.  You aren’t telling me who you are, you’re telling me who you _were_.  You’ve said it yourself many times.  You aren’t that person anymore.  I’m here for you.”

Damian gave a small smile and patted the boy’s hand before it left his shoulder.  “Thank you.  I will say that you can’t tell anyone about this; not because I’m being secretive, even though I am, but because of what I told you last week.  This is dangerous information.  I’m only telling you because…well, I think you deserve to know.  Maybe it will make things easier for the both of us in the future, if we get this out in the open between us.”

Jon nodded, “And, this required you to take your shirt off?”

Damian almost chuckled at the question, “No, not really.  Like I said, it’s warm in here.  Also, I just wanted to give you a frame of reference for what I’m going to tell you about.  Every one of these scars has a story.  I’m going to tell you some of them.”

Jon cocked his head, “Some of them?”

Damian nodded, “I can’t really remember all of them.  As you can see, there are so many.  Dinah said I shouldn’t try to remember all of them individually, just how they all add up to make me.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of them.  I think, if you had just started talking about scars, I might have asked to see them later.  This way, we got that out of the way.”

Damian pulled his shirt back on as he turned on the mattress and crossed his legs under him.  “Jon, I want to tell you about the League of Assassins.  I want to tell you why this information is so dangerous.  I want to tell you how I know about them, and why you should never pursue information about them through any other source except me.  Most of all, I want to tell you how I got these scars.”

Jon’s eyes were wide as he took in the information.  He nodded and said, “You can trust me, Damian.  We’re brothers now.  I won’t tell anyone.  I won’t even tell Mom and Dad, if you want.”

Damian thought about that for a second, “It might be for the best to tell your Father, just so that he knows that you know.  You don’t have to tell him details, just that I told you.”

“Why would he have to know that I know,” Jon asked in confusion.

Damian sighed, “Because he knows.  At least, he knows some of it.  The Justice League council had a long discussion about my past before I was allowed anywhere near any of you.  Father and Dick fought long and hard for the chances I’ve been given.  Your Father stuck his neck out for me, too.  I’ve done my best to repay that trust; trust that he had no way of knowing I deserved.  It hasn’t always been easy, but I don’t think it’s meant to be.”

Damian looked up at Jon, who was sitting on the air mattress, matching Damian’s posture and hanging on every word.  “Get comfortable, Jon.  This is a long story.”

 

**A/N: Okay, I lied.  This is really it.  I thought I wanted a short chapter to wrap things up, and this popped out.  Actually, I lied again.  I actually wrote the epilogue before I wrote chapters 15 and 16.  I thought it would be about half this length, but I should never try to guess the length of my chapters before I write them.  I already know where chapters 15 and 16 are going, and at this point, so do you.**

**Well, what do you think about my little familial interaction with Damian and Jon?  Reading some of the comics, these two often seem more brotherly than Damian and any of his actual brothers.  This interaction and relationship will come into play in future stories.**

**I’d love to hear your overall thoughts on my works.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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